


Stitch Us Back Together

by ProofOfConcept, wilddragonflying



Series: Collaborations [88]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Abuse, Fix-It, Fuck S5, Getting Back Together, M/M, character resurrection, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26009509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProofOfConcept/pseuds/ProofOfConcept, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: The moment Eliot raises that peach to his lips, lets it tumble from his fingers into the flames, something inside of him dies. He feels it break away from the rest of him, leaving the world dimmer, colourless, and cold. He doesn't care. The only thing he cares about now is lost to him forever.That's not true. He cares about Margo, of course. But she's been all over him since she sliced and diced his torso to get rid of the Monster that had been running around in his body. The Monster that slaughtered gods and innocents alike; the Monster that spent months torturing the people Eliot thought of as family. He still thinks of them as family, when he can think of them at all. Especially Margo. She's been a little smothering lately, is all. Eliot can't deal with her shit as well as his own. He can't deal with his shit, either.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: Collaborations [88]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/41362
Comments: 6
Kudos: 128





	Stitch Us Back Together

The moment Eliot raises that peach to his lips, lets it tumble from his fingers into the flames, something inside of him dies. He feels it break away from the rest of him, leaving the world dimmer, colourless, and cold. He doesn't care. The only thing he cares about now is lost to him forever.

That's not true. He cares about Margo, of course. But she's been all over him since she sliced and diced his torso to get rid of the Monster that had been running around in his body. The Monster that slaughtered gods and innocents alike; the Monster that spent months torturing the people Eliot thought of as family. He still thinks of them as family, when he can think of them at all. Especially Margo. She's been a little smothering lately, is all. Eliot can't deal with her shit as well as his own. He can't deal with his shit, either.

They stay in Marina's apartment, because where else are they going to go? Brakebills? The thought alone makes Eliot feel sick. At least here he has no memories, though the haunted look in the others' eyes every time he walks into a room or catches them unawares tells him he's the only one unburdened by their continued presence in this place; by Eliot's presence alongside them. So he does both them and himself a favour, and stays away from them as much as possible. He also stays away from mirrors, because maybe he never saw the Monster when it was in his body, but he doesn't see himself in his reflection either.

The graphic tees were the first thing to go, but no one has bothered to procure his own clothes from the Physical Cottage or from Fillory, and he's made no moves to retrieve them himself or buy new ones. He wears one of Quentin's sweatshirts for a week, until Margo calls him pathetic and wrestles him into the shower. The shirt and the rest of Quentin's clothes are gone by the time he gets out, so he starts dressing in soft henleys from Marina's one-night-stand pile instead. He doesn't look anything like himself. His hair is too long, he's long stopped caring about skincare or even general facial hair maintenance, and he's constantly exhausted, dark circles under his eyes a permanent fixture now.

He spends days in bed, alternately unable to sleep and unable to stay awake, but he never feels any less tired for it. If he could bring himself to think the thought, he might wonder if this is how Quentin felt on his worst days, on his last days - or if, somehow, it was even worse than this. It's difficult to imagine ever feeling worse than this, but even now Eliot can't quite bring himself to end his own life, so he must be wrong. Sometimes Eliot thinks that maybe he's just not as brave as Quentin was; other times he curses Quentin for being a coward. Both instances leave him shaking with the force of his sobs, smothered in his pillow so that Margo doesn't hear and try to intervene. He's not strong enough to cast a soundproofing charm on his bedroom door, even once his stomach heals and his magic returns to him.

He's not strong enough for a lot of things.

He's definitely not strong enough to resist the call of the bottle of whiskey he spotted on his way to the kitchen earlier today. It's late, and he can't sleep, and he _hates himself_ \- so why should he try to resist? It definitely wasn't there yesterday, or whenever it last was that he ventured outside of his room for a drink or something to eat, possibly several days ago. It was just sitting innocently on a bookcase. It's probably Kady's or Penny's, left there as an afterthought - it's probably not even there anymore. But Eliot needs it, suddenly, viciously, the urge to drink himself into oblivion burning its way through his veins like it hasn't for what feels like years, and really, why should Eliot resist, even if he wanted to?

So he sneaks out of his bedroom, moves as silently as he can through the dark apartment. Impossibly, the whiskey is still there, and Eliot reaches out for it - only to almost knock it to the floor when someone clears their throat behind him. He whirls around to find Alice watching him from the sofa, and does his best not to flinch from her gaze, guilty in more ways than one. "Oh," he says softly, his own voice rough from disuse. "Hi."

"Hi," Alice echoes, watching Eliot carefully from her perch on the couch, books and papers in several different languages spread across the table in front of her. "You look... like you haven't slept in a long time. Since the last time I saw you."

Eliot can't remember the last time he saw her. He avoids Alice much more than any of the others. "I probably haven't," he admits. He turns back to the bookcase, lets his fingers close around the cool neck of the bottle, and raises it to Alice in a kind of salute. "Well. Goodnight."

He makes it only a few steps before Alice calls, "Eliot, wait."

Eliot freezes - but he doesn't turn around. "What?"

"I - " There's a hesitation, like Alice is bracing herself. "We never... really got along, but. Quentin cared for you. A lot more than any of us realized, I think." Another pause, and then: "I haven't slept, either." This is said in a whisper. "I keep seeing him telling Penny to get me out of there."

"I don't want to know," Eliot says, too rough. "I don't want you to tell me how he died."

"I won't," Alice says, quiet but serious. "I just... want you to know that I'm not giving up on him. All of the times he never gave up on me, I owe this to him. And you both deserve a chance to be happy, after how hard he fought to save you."

"He wouldn't be happy with me," Eliot says. This, he knows for certain. "Even if you could get him back. You can't."

"He spent months standing up to the Monster, just to keep it from destroying your body and finding a new one, on the off-chance you could be saved. You didn't see him after the park, after you said that line about peaches and plums. We didn't have any idea if it was even possible, but... He wouldn't give up. I can't, either. Not until I exhaust every possibility."

"You're going to destroy yourself," Eliot says, soft but sure. "I get it. I know you loved him."

"I did," she says. "But what we had... it wasn't what you two had, was it?"

Eliot closes his eyes. "I don't think you want me to answer that."

"He suggested we try again, being together," Alice confesses. "Right before we left. But he seemed... relieved, when I told him I wanted us to be friends, not anything else."

Eliot barks a harsh laugh, and unscrews the cap from the whiskey. "That doesn't make me feel better," he says.

"It probably wouldn't, if you loved him, too." Alice's voice isn't _cold,_ exactly, but it is calculating, shrewd. 

Eliot takes a long drink from the bottle before he finally turns to Alice with his answer. "Yes," he says. "I loved him."

Alice meets his gaze steadily. "And he loved you, too."

Eliot lets out a soft breath. "Yes," he says. "For a very long time."

"When did you have the time for that?" she asks; the words are quiet, but nowhere close to accusatory. 

Eliot doesn't see the point in hiding anymore. He takes another drink from the bottle, and sighs raggedly. "On the quest," he says. "Margo stopped us from going after the Time Key in this timeline, but we still remembered it somehow, that life we lived. Our whole lives. We loved each other for our whole lives."

Alice sucks in a sharp breath. "That would explain it," she murmurs. 

"It was beautiful," Eliot whispers, because now the dam is broken he can't stop. "We had-- a son. Grandchildren. They were so beautiful."

Alice's expression softens. "It sounds like it," she says, sincere. "I - Thank you for telling me. I won't tell anyone else."

 _It doesn't matter,_ Eliot doesn't say. _He's gone, and even if he wasn't, I burned that bridge a long time ago._ Instead, he just nods, and blinks the tears from his eyes. "Thank you."

* * *

Eliot loses track of time, then; he thinks it's maybe another day or two of no interaction with anyone else before someone knocks on his bedroom door. He thinks it might be Margo, trying to make him eat something - but he's only half right. "Eliot? I've got dinner, it's something that'll keep," Julia calls through the door when he doesn't answer the knock.

Eliot just mashes his face further into his pillow and mumbles something unintelligible.

There's a pause, and then: "I'm going to bring it inside, so you can eat whenever you feel up to it." A moment later, the door opens slowly. 

Eliot doesn't even look up, just stays perfectly still and waits for her to leave.

The sound of Julia's footsteps draw closer, and there's a soft _clink_ as she sets down whatever dish she's holding. The footsteps don't immediately leave, though, and after a moment, Julia speaks. "No one's seen you for two days," she says quietly. "You need to eat something, before Margo does something drastic."

Eliot still doesn't lift his head, but he does answer. "Why do you care?"

"Because I've been where she is," Julia answers. "Q - " She pauses, then starts again, voice slightly shaky. "Q had some. Really bad days. Weeks, even. And his dad and I had to make him do the bare necessities to keep living. So I know what she's feeling, and it _sucks,_ so maybe you could make it a little easier on her and eat something?"

Eliot sighs heavily, but he does roll over to glare up at her. "That's emotional manipulation," he says.

Julia shrugs, only looking vaguely guilty. "If it works, I'll take it."

"You can't use Margo _and_ Quentin against me," Eliot complains. "It's cruel."

"It's a desperate measure," Julia corrects, a small smile tilting her lips. "Before Margo comes in here and force-feeds you and dumps you in the shower." She sighs, expression turning serious once more. "You don't need to eat it all right now, or go get a shower, but. You should still eat something, maybe crack a window behind the blinds, get some fresh air in here. I can cast a muffling charm on the window so it stays quiet."

Eliot just shakes his head, helpless. "You don't need to do this."

This time, the smile Julia gives him is sad. "I kind of do. You helped me, way back before shit got really crazy. And Q - He gave up so much to make sure you were safe, that you made it."

Eliot flinches. "Including his own life," he mutters.

"Yeah," Julia sighs. She reaches out, taps one finger against the plate as she turns toward the door. "Don't let his effort go to waste."

* * *

Eliot wants to resent Julia for the way she spoke to him, and maybe he succeeds a little, but he also can't ignore the voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Quentin telling him that she's right. So he eats and even showers a couple of days later, but it does nothing to improve his mood and he falls right back into bed again once he gets back from the bathroom.

Once upon a time Eliot Waugh would never have allowed himself to fall asleep with his hair wet, but that Eliot Waugh died a long time ago, so when Margo barges into his room the next morning and yanks the sheets off of him he's still naked and his mass of curls is wild and untamed, sticking up every which way when he sits up to glare bleerily at her. "What?"

"It's time for you to stop being such a sadsack," Margo declares, glaring right back at Eliot. "It's been _months,_ El. You need to do something besides mope, and we've got an idea."

"Bambi, I honestly couldn't give less of a fuck what you think, right now," Eliot tells her. "Our resident not-a-goddess made sure that I'm not going to die anytime soon, so you're officially absolved of any friendship duty you think you have. Please leave."

"No, El," Margo says, stubborn. "Listen, you can't just mope around in here and hope you waste away before any of us realize you're gone. You need to get out of this fucking _cave_ and do something. Alice found - "

"No," Eliot spits, suddenly furious. "Don't try to drag me into that. I don't care what she thinks she's found, okay? Quentin is _gone_. She can't bring him back. If you really cared about me, you'd let me deal with that in my own way."

"Eliot - " Margo starts, insistent. 

"You're not listening to me," Eliot cuts her off. The nightstand starts to rattle, making the lamp clink against the empty whiskey bottle. He doesn't even notice. " _Fuck off_ , Bambi."

Margo glances at the nightstand, biting her lip before she huffs. "Fine. I'll leave you alone for now, then. Try not to choke on your survivor's guilt before I come back."

Eliot doesn't say anything, but sends a wave of telekinesis across the room to slam the door behind her.

* * *

He gets a solid three days of solitude before Margo comes back. This time, she doesn't quite _barge_ into his room, though she doesn't exactly wait for permission after knocking. She also doesn't give him a chance to tell her to fuck off again. "Eliot, we have a spell to bring Quentin back. It's solid, but we need one more Magician who knew Q."

It's more of a struggle to sit up than it probably should be, but Eliot is half cut and hasn't really sat up in quite some time. He fights his way upright, his hair once more defying gravity and the shitty whiskey he managed to conjure from the dregs he left in the bottom of the bottle sloshing about inside the glass. "What?" he asks a vaguely-blurred Margo.

"Remember the golem you used when you were stuck in Fillory, to be in two places at once? Alice found a spell to pull someone's soul from the Underworld to a golem, to bring them back to life even without a body. But we need you to help, because it requires a _lot_ of power, and every Magician needs to be someone the soul knew."

Eliot doesn't really know what to do with all of that, so he just... laughs. "No," he says. "It won't work. You can't bring someone back from the Underworld, Bambi, do you think I haven't tried?"

Margo's expression does something too complicated for Eliot to fully make out while drunk. "You can't do it alone," she says. "Not without the help of a god, anyway. But with the right Circumstances and the right Magicians, it's possible."

"You can't ask me to do this," Eliot says. "You can't ask me to stand with you and watch you fail. It's _Q._ "

Margo sighs, drawing closer. "I know," she says, reaching out. "But we won't fail - and Quentin needs you sober." The next moment, she's grabbed Eliot by the arm and practically dragged him from the bed. It's a testament to just how much Eliot's body has - has _withered_ that it takes her barely any effort at all to drag him to the bathroom and dump him in the shower, spinning the knob all the way to full cold. 

Eliot cries out, throws himself away from the spray, but with Margo blocking the shower door and cold tile on every other side of him he has nowhere to go. "Fuck, Margo!"

Margo is relentless; she doesn't turn the shower off until Eliot is well and truly soaked, and definitely closer to sober than he has been in days. "Are you ready to get out here and help us get Q back?"

Eliot stands before her, looking as pathetic as he feels, dripping steadily onto the shower mat. "If you make me do this, and it doesn't work, I won't survive it."

"I wouldn't make you do it if I wasn't one hundred percent sure it would work," Margo says, her tone softer than Eliot's ever heard it before. "This will work, El."

Eliot trusts this woman with his life, but it still takes him a long moment to nod. "When are we doing this?"

"Tonight," Margo answers. "You've got time to get dressed and get something to eat, finish sobering up."

Eliot blanches. "Do I not need to learn the spell first?"

"It's simple," Margo assures him. "Poppers we already know. I'll go over it with you while you eat. Julia and Alice will be doing most of the heavy lifting with the language, the rest of us are there to provide power and guide Q back."

"Margo, I can't be the reason this gets fucked up."

"I won't let you be," Margo says fiercely. "But if we don't do it tonight, the Circumstances won't be right again for another month. We can't risk doing something this powerful with any adjustments for incorrect Circumstances." 

Eliot sighs. "Fine," he says. "Let me get dressed."

Margo nods, stepping back so she can grab a towel. "I'll meet you in the kitchen," she says, tone brooking no argument. 

* * *

Eliot's part in the spell is as simple as Margo promised; he's basically going to be feeding power to Alice and Julia, who will handle the Greek incantation, and acting as a beacon for Quentin's soul, drawing it to familiar faces and magics. Eliot's still nervous, still lowkey _terrified_ that it won't work, but... Margo, Julia, and even Alice assure him that it will. It's not enough to make him hope, but it's enough to make him try.

After they've all eaten and gone over the spell one last time, they begin. Alice and Margo have crafted a blank golem, magical clay inscribed with various phrases of Ancient Greek, and they've laid it on the coffee table, which is covered in a shroud. Alice stands at the head of the golem, and Julia at the feet; Margo and Eliot stand on the golem's right side, and Kady and Penny stand on the golem's left. They all pause one last time, take one last, long look at each other - 

And then, in unison, they raise their hands and start casting.

Eliot hasn't seriously attempted to cast since his magic came back to him, and he can feel the strain of channeling this much magic in his hands and arms. He doesn't falter, though; he can't let himself falter, can't be the reason this spell fails. So, Eliot lets himself fall into the rhythm of the tuts, repeating them over and over again as Alice and Julia's voices weave together.

Slowly, the writing on the golem starts to glow. The glow grows brighter, and brighter, until Eliot can't make out the golem any longer, can only squint against the miniature sun on the coffee table in the penthouse living room. He feels the magic starting to swell, to crest as Julia and Alice's voices rise, as they chant faster - 

And then there's a sensation like a balloon popping, and the magic crashes through Eliot, over him and around him until he feels like he almost can't stay standing, and then the light on the coffee table disappears fast enough to leave them all blinking.

They're still recovering from the end of the spell when a voice says, " _Shit,_ that felt so weird."

It's not Quentin. Eliot barely has time to register everyone's reactions to this, but before disappointment can crush him to dust he launches himself across the room and wraps his arms around the man standing in the middle of it.

" _Teddy_ ," he gasps, and bursts into tears.

The man who isn't Quentin wraps Eliot up in his arms just as tightly as Eliot is holding him. "Hi, Papa," he murmurs, voice sounding distinctly choked as he buries his face in the crook of Eliot's neck. 

"Hi," Eliot whispers, cradling the back of Teddy's head. "Hi. Oh my God, Teddy, I'm so sorry."

The man - _Teddy_ \- makes a soothing, shushing noise, rocking Eliot slightly. There are vague murmurs behind them, but nobody says anything until the silence has stretched on for an almost uncomfortable length of time. Of course, it's Penny who speaks first. "Okay, so. Not to be insensitive, but you, asshole, are _not_ who we were trying to summon."

Teddy pulls back only far enough to look at Penny with a raised eyebrow. "I know. I was summoned - and sent - because you can't summon Dad's soul. Not like it is right now."

" _Dad?_ " Julia echoes, eyes wide. "Who the hell _are_ you?"

"This is Quentin's son," Eliot answers. He's still crying. "Teddy. This is our son."

" _Your_ son?" Penny demands - but Alice's expression goes from confused and suspicious to understanding. 

"Oh," she breathes. "That - You told him about us, didn't you?"

Teddy nods. "I was raised on stories of you all," he says, shifting so that he can wrap an arm around his father's waist and face everyone else. "Aunt Julia, Aunt Margo, Aunt Kady, Aunt Alice, Aunt Fen, and Uncle Penny and Uncle Josh. It was enough for the spell to work - with some help."

"Help from who?" Julia asks. 

"Persephone. She's still got a hell of a soft spot for you, Aunt Julia. Which reminds me, I have messages and advice."

"Are you shitting me?" Margo asks, though she could be asking Eliot as much as Teddy.

"No, I am not," Teddy answers, giving Margo a winning smile. "Can we sit down, though? Papa feels like he's about to keel over."

"We can do whatever you want as long as you stop fucking calling him that. I'm going to vomit," Margo bites out.

"Bambi, stop," Eliot says, weak.

"No," Margo snaps. "Were you dropped on your head recently? Have you pickled your goddamn brain? You don't have a fucking son, El!"

"I do," Eliot says. "We do. That life we lived, at the mosaic..."

Margo stares at him. "Your kid is right," she says at last. "You'd better sit down, before I knock you out."

Teddy makes a face at her, but guides Eliot to the couch, sitting down next to him. "I'm not surprised you never told them about the mosaic," he murmurs, just loud enough to be heard by the others. 

"I couldn't," Eliot says, quieter still. "Teddy, I told your dad--"

"I know exactly what you told him, and so does Mom," Teddy says, his tone even. "That's one of the messages I have to deliver, from her to you."

"Oh, God," Eliot whispers. He closes his eyes.

"I'm not going to give it to you in front of everyone else," Teddy assures him. "That message is private." 

"You said you had other messages," Penny prompts, clearly still suspicious. 

Teddy nods. "Right. First, from the Penny in the Underworld." He clears his throat. "He made me memorize this, because it’s short. 'Coldwater's not down here, and his book hasn't stopped being written. He's not dead, but this time you guys are going to have to get off your asses and save him, not the other way around. Also, Kady, I miss you. Kick some Magician ass with your Hedges.'"

"Jesus," Kady breathes. She actually takes a step back.

Margo has no time for her. "Who cares about that?" she snaps. "What the fuck do you mean, _he's not dead?_ "

"Exactly that," Teddy says. "The next message is from Persephone, it’s mostly some answers and advice. She says that, when Dad cast in the Mirror Realm, things got... weird, because of all of the different time magic he's interacted with. He's not dead, he's fragmented."

Alice blinks. "Wait, like Harriet? She was fragmented in the Mirror Realm, after the mirror bridge she was using was destroyed."

Teddy shrugs. "I don't know about that," he says. "I just know what Persephone told me. His body was destroyed, but his soul split into three fragments. She says they're at the places of his past deaths."

"But if you're saying that this happened because of all the different timelines we lived, that could be anywhere," Margo argues. "He's died over forty times!"

"But only ever in three places, according to Persephone," Teddy counters. "Brakebills, Castle Whitespire, and the Mosaic."

"The Mosaic," Margo spits, rounding on Eliot. "Again. What the fuck else have you been keeping from me?"

Eliot drops his head into his hands. "Not now, Bambi."

Teddy's arm tightens around Eliot's waist, pulling him closer in a comforting gesture. "Papa died of old age, and when Dad was burying him - stubborn bastard didn't call me or any of his perfectly healthy grandkids to help - he found the Time Key. He gave it to Jane Chatwin, the way that it was always meant to be, and then he finished burying Papa before finally sending me a letter. When I got there..." Here, Teddy hesitates, looking at Eliot with sorrow in his eyes. "He was almost gone. Lying in bed, stayed long enough to say goodbye before he passed."

"Jesus," Julia whispers, leaning into Penny's hand when he places it on her shoulder. 

Eliot thinks he might be shaking. "I didn't know that," he whispers.

Silence falls over the group for a long minute before Alice finally breaks it. "So, three places where he died, where parts of his soul went," she muses. "Why did it break?"

"Because all of the time magic he's been affected by has been made by four different gods," Teddy answers. "Ember and Umber, Prometheus, and Circe. Godly magic... lingers. Persephone said that, when his body was destroyed in the Mirror Realm, his soul got - confused, kind of, as to where to start the journey to the Underworld."

"So what do we need to do, chase these fragments down with a net?" Penny asks, wincing when Julia elbows him in the side. 

"No, we need to research," she says. " _After_ we all get some rest, and something to eat. It's been a long day, and we cast a huge spell, and learned something really damn shocking." She turns to Teddy, asking, "Is Quentin in any danger of - of losing himself, becoming a Niffin, anything like that?"

Teddy shrugs. "I don't know for sure, just what Persephone told me. Dad's soul fragmented, and now the fragments are stuck. But if you can reunite them and contain them, you could do the same thing that brought me back, and put his soul in a new body."

"Right," Eliot says, his voice dull. "Well, if that's everything, I'm done." He releases Teddy and gets to his feet, but turns back to him and holds out a hand. "Are you coming?"

Teddy nods, standing and taking his father's hand. He pauses, turns back to the rest of the group. "It's good to finally meet you all," he says. "Wish it was under better circumstances."

Julia gives Teddy a small smile. "It's nice to meet you, too. Go get some rest, we'll start researching again tomorrow."

Eliot leads Teddy through the apartment to his bedroom, and spells the door locked behind them. It takes him too long to realise that the room is a state, and he casts an apologetic look at his son before casting a general cleaning spell over the place. It doesn't make the room look any better, but at least the sheets are fresh and the laundry strewn over the floor is clean. "Sorry," he says. "I didn't know to expect visitors."

Teddy's expression is understanding. "I was this bad after Amaraline died," he says. "I was living with Abel and his family, but... It was still difficult."

"I don't know what to do with myself," Eliot admits, ashamed. "We both know I have no right to feel this way."

Teddy's expression hardens. "Okay, no. Let's nip this right in the bud - yes, you were scared and made an idiotic decision. That doesn't mean you can't mourn the death of the man you've loved for literal _multiple_ lifetimes. When we get Dad back, are you going to apologize to him?"

"Of course I am," Eliot says. "I haven't let myself think about it, but. Of course."

Ted nods, looking satisfied. "Good. Otherwise Mom was prepared to find a way out and haunt your ass until you did."

Eliot makes a sound that's more of a sob than a laugh. "God, what must she think of me?" he wonders. "First I push your dad away, and then I get him killed."

Teddy sighs, moving so he can sit on the bed. "She thinks you're an idiot for pushing Dad away, that it was stupid to shoot him down like that when you just lived fifty years together and - somehow - got a chance to do it all over again. She was confident you two would figure it out, though. And everything with the Monster... Well, she said to tell you that she, at least, can't blame you - she would have shot the Monster, too, if she was in your place. Said Dad was always too self-sacrificing for his own good. You couldn't have known that a _god-killing bullet_ wouldn't work."

"I think he killed himself, Teddy," Eliot whispers, and it's - more than a father should ever put on his son, really, but this Teddy is older than him now, and it's not like he doesn't _know_. "I think he wanted it to happen. What if we bring him back and he hates us for it?"

"If he hates you for bringing him back, then he can get the fuck over it," Teddy says bluntly. "Dad was tired, at the end, because the Monster was absolutely awful to him. Maybe that means he didn't try to run as fast as he could have, maybe he just... accepted it. But he won't hate you for bringing him back, not for good."

"Do you know what happened to him?" Eliot asks. He's honestly terrified of the answer, but he can't not ask. He can't expect their son to carry that burden alone. "Do you know what it did to him?"

"Not everything," Teddy sighs. "We can't see everything, down in the Underworld. But we saw enough. It treated him like... You remember how Alyss was, when she was two or three? Demanding, couldn't be reasoned with, needed every whim attended to? Magnify that by ten, and give her godlike powers. That's the gist of what we could see."

Eliot blinks, and more tears spill onto his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he says. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I was so scared to lose him."

"We know," Teddy says softly, reaching out to pull Eliot onto the bed next to him so Teddy can wrap him in another hug. "We know."

* * *

Eliot isn't really fit for much for the rest of the night, but he does manage to find Teddy something to eat and some clothes to change into for bed. Teddy helps him make the bedroom feel a little less like a fucking hovel, and they talk until they fall asleep.

When Eliot wakes up the next morning he feels like he's been hit by a truck. He still can't believe Teddy's here, but his son is still sleeping peacefully in the bed beside him. Emotion wells up in his throat at the sight of him, and he realises that he needs to get up before he starts bawling all over his kid again. Teddy doesn't stir when he gets out of bed and creeps from the room, feeling for all the world like he's just about to slip into the main living area of the cottage, to find Arielle already awake, curled up on the bench beside the fire with Quentin dozing on her shoulder. Instead, he finds Margo waiting for him, and she looks pissed.

Eliot is too tired to put this off any longer. "Please at least keep your voice down," he sighs as he shuffles over to the kitchen table. "I don't want to wake him."

"Him, who?" Margo asks, and it would sound innocent if it wasn't for the fire in her eyes. "Your fucking _kid?_ "

"Yes, my fucking kid," Eliot snaps.

"Oh, yeah, God forbid we wake up the kid that I didn't even know existed until last night," Margo hisses. "What the absolute _fuck,_ El? I stopped you two from going to the Mosaic in the first place, how the fuck does he actually exist?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?" Eliot demands. "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not - except for the fact that you obviously remember him, and _oh yeah,_ he calls Quentin 'Dad' and some woman 'Mom,' and says you and Quentin both died of old age, when you're obviously alive! What the fuck _happened_?"

"Exactly what Q told you happened in that letter!" Eliot snaps. "We lived our entire life there, and we had a family, and we died. Somehow, we remember it."

"Why didn't you tell me that you remembered?" Margo cries. "I thought - The last I knew, you were talking about how it was a life that never had to happen, now!"

"I couldn't tell you," Eliot insists. "I could barely talk about it with Q, and he lived that whole life with me. How could I tell you?"

Margo shakes her head. "Eliot. You two had a whole life together - for fuck's sake, you were in a poly relationship with him! Why couldn't you talk about it with him?"

"For the love of fuck, Margo, I was _scared!_ "

That brings Margo up short. "'Scared'?" she echoes. "Of _what?_ "

"I was scared that he wouldn't love me in this life," Eliot says, and his voice breaks. "I was scared that I wouldn't be enough for him."

"Oh," Margo breathes; she just… stops, for a moment. But Eliot knows, when she steps forward to wrap her arms carefully, if somewhat awkwardly, around him, that she gets it. "Okay. I still want to hear about this life - and I especially want to hear about this woman who was able to put up with both of you assholes long enough to have a kid with you - but. I suppose I can see why you didn't say anything before."

Eliot just holds on tight. "I don't know what to do, Margo," he confesses. "What the fuck am I supposed to do if we get him back and he doesn't want me?"

"You have a good cry, and we take things one day at a time," Margo answers from where she's tucked up against Eliot's chest. "But honey, if Quentin doesn't want you, I'll eat my crown."

Eliot chokes on a laugh. "We need to get him back, Bambi," he says. "I need him back."

"I know," Margo hums. "We'll get him back, El."

* * *

Between the two of them, Eliot and Margo manage to whip up a decent breakfast before everyone else wakes up. Alice is the first down, closely followed by Kady, and then Penny and Julia and Teddy all pile into the kitchen at the same time. Teddy stops dead in his tracks, blinking at the frankly enormous spread. "I don't recognize any of this," he says, sounding awed. "But it smells _amazing._ "

Margo looks smug. "Breakfast fajitas for us cultured people, and Belgian waffles for the uncultured swine who can't handle a bit of spice this early in the morning."

Penny is already loading up a tortilla with the fajita mix. "She means the white people who can't handle spice the way Mexicans and Indians can."

Teddy looks vaguely intimidated. "Is it really that spicy?"

Eliot laughs. "Try it," he says.

Even for those who don't know Teddy, it’s easy to read the suspicion in his gaze as he squints at Eliot. "I'll try a little bit," he decides after a moment's thought. "Can't be any worse-tasting than Nana's porridge."

Julia raises an eyebrow. "Porridge?"

Teddy makes a face as he grabs a tortilla and mimics Penny - though with far less fajita mix. "Nana was not a gifted cook. She could make stew, if you gave her the ingredients and didn't let her get distracted, but that's about it. Granddad did all the cooking in Mom's family."

"And I did all the cooking in ours," Eliot remembers, his gaze keen on Teddy. "Your mom was a great cook, but she was too busy trying to wrangle you and your dad most of the time."

"I was a little hellion," Teddy agrees cheerfully. "And Dad could burn water."

That gets a laugh from Julia. "Almost literally; I remember one time, when we were about thirteen, his mom asked him to make some hummingbird food. All he had to do was let the water heat up on the stove - not even get to boiling, just heat up - and then add the sugar she'd already measured out. He got distracted reading, and the water boiled away completely. That pot was never the same after that."

Teddy laughs. "Oh, gods. That sounds like him." He starts wrapping the tortilla the way that Penny did, carefully tucking in the ends before rolling it. "Remember when he tried to heat up the cookies from Granddad for your anniversary?"

Eliot groans. "The cottage smelled like smoke for a week, even with magic."

"It was awful," Teddy agrees, seemingly oblivious to the way the others are watching them like a tennis match. He lifts the tortilla from his plate, giving it a considering look before he glances at Margo. "Do I get some slack for being Fillorian and never having much spice at all?"

Margo smirks. "Only a little bit, because Fillory wouldn't know a good spice if it bit it in the ass."

Teddy snorts, takes a breath, and then takes a bite. 

The look on his face has Eliot laughing, truly laughing, for the first time in months. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

Teddy at least appears to remember his manners, because he manages to finish his bite before he speaks. "What the _hell,_ " he starts, picking out a long slice of green pepper, "is this?"

Margo raises an eyebrow. "Green pepper," she answers. "And there's red ones in there, too."

Teddy makes a disgusted noise. "They're so _slimy,_ " he complains, setting the fajita down so he can unwrap it and use a fork to pick out the peppers. "And feel like they're supposed to be crunchy."

Penny is looking at him in disbelief. "Your problem's with the _peppers?_ "

Teddy shrugs, rewrapping his modified fajita. "It is spicy," he concedes. "I probably couldn't eat more than two? But those are just - too weird. The sausage and eggs are good, though. And I like the onions."

Eliot barks another laugh. "You're a fucking weirdo, kid."

Teddy sticks his tongue out at Eliot. "Takes one to know one, Papa."

The rest of breakfast is uneventful; Julia and Margo take the opportunity to ask Teddy questions about Quentin, Eliot, his mother - who Teddy tells them was named Arielle, and Eliot's chest does something funny at the mention of her name, a long-scarred sorrow twinging, aching - and the mosaic and their extended family. Once all of the food is gone, however, Julia is the one who brings the conversation back around to the reason Teddy is even there to begin with. "You said that Persephone said Quentin's soul is fragmented," she says. "We still want him back, but... how do you _capture_ a soul?"

Spurred into productivity by the appearance of his son and the suddenly very real prospect of getting Quentin back, Eliot was up late into the night thinking about this, and he actually has some suggestions. "We know of a few vessels that can hold the essence of a spirit or a creature, which I'm willing to suggest is basically the same thing as a soul." He offers Alice an apologetic look and goes on. "The first one that springs to mind is a Niffin box, although that obviously presents a new problem."

Alice sighs. "Namely that you can't get them back out."

"Not an option, then," Margo says instantly. 

"Then what _is?_ " Penny asks. 

"What about those weird tattoos you guys got?" Kady asks. "You each held an entire fucking demon in them - surely that can be modified to hold a soul?"

"I'm already there," Eliot assures her. "That was one of the vessels I've thought about; the other was the bottle we used to hold the Djinn in our second year."

"Both of those we know we can get the entity out of," Kady says.

Alice drums her fingers on the table, expression thoughtful. "I wonder if there's a way to combine them?" she muses. "The problem with a djinn bottle is that it has to be opened to put anything inside - but when you open it, you release the djinn. The demons could only be released with a trigger phrase, though."

"So we could keep adding to whatever vessel we chose without releasing what was already in it," Kady realises.

Alice nods. "Having niffin-me in his tattoo fucked Quentin up, though, and I don't think we should take the chance with his already-compromised soul that it could be damaged. But if we took the trigger phrase and added it to a djinn bottle..." She considers that for a moment. "I'd need to do some research at the Library, to make sure there's no magical conflict. But it could work."

"Will it hurt him?" Eliot asks her. "You're the only one that's ever been trapped in something like this."

"It... _frustrated_ me, being tethered to his body," Alice says slowly. "But it hurt him physically. I wasn't hurt by being so closely tied to him, but his soul has already been fragmented, I don't want to take any chance with it we don't have to. I don't want to risk his soul being damaged further by being so close to another."

"Okay," Eliot says, nodding. "So we find a bottle we can put him in until we've got all three fragments, and then we do the same ritual we did that brought Teddy back?"

"We'll have to adjust where we're summoning from," Julia says, frowning thoughtfully. "And incorporate the trigger phrase."

"Wait, hang on - is his soul just... going to fix itself?" Penny asks. "Like, are we going to have to stitch it together somehow?"

Eliot blanches, but Kady just says, "Good question. Alice, do you think that's something else you could look into at the Library?"

Alice looks troubled. "I can look into it," she agrees slowly, glancing at Teddy. "Did Persephone - "

Teddy shakes his head. "She didn't say anything about it to me," he says regretfully. 

Julia hesitates, then offers, "While Alice is researching at the Library, Penny, Kady, and I can look into getting my powers back. Maybe I could get in touch with her, then."

"Do you really think she'd help?" Eliot asks. "More than she already has, I mean."

Julia shrugs. "She might at least point me in the right direction. But it's really difficult to get in touch with a god if you aren't one yourself." She shares a look with Kady. "I can still do magic, despite what the Binder tried to do to keep me alive after the Monster's sister possessed me. And I still feel... like I did before Persephone told me she'd given me Reynard's godhood. Like there's something big just out of my reach."

"Alright," Margo says. "So, you three go work on trying to make Wicker a goddess - again - while the rest of us work on combining two of the most powerful containment spells known to Magicians without them blowing up in our face. I'll see if I can't track down that book we used to bottle the djinn in second year."

"I'll pull any resources I can find at the Library," Alice says, nodding. "If you see anything else useful, bring it back here, and we can go through everything together."

"All right," Eliot says, summoning a smile from the depths of his despair. "Go team."

* * *

They split up soon after breakfast; Margo heads for Brakebills, Julia, Penny, and Kady leaving soon after to start tracking down a couple of Hedges who had recovered from being magically blocked. When Alice leaves to return to the Library, a list of topics to research in her hand, Eliot is left alone with his son. They finish cleaning up the dishes from breakfast, putting away the - scant - leftovers, and then find themselves at loose ends. After a few moments of awkward silence, however, Teddy sighs. “I’m sure you’ve got more questions about… all of this,” he says, waving his hand in a vague gesture. “Let’s sit down and you can ask, now that we’re alone?”

Eliot follows Teddy over to the couch, moving a little slower now than he probably should. Spending the most important months for rehab in a depression hole has its consequences, apparently. He sits down with a wince, and spares a moment to mourn the fact that he'll probably need his cane the next time he goes outside. "I don't really know what to say," he admits. "I'm... beyond glad that you're here, honestly. But I know that you probably don't want to be here."

"It's certainly not something that I ever thought I'd do," Teddy concedes. "And if she could've made it happen, Mom would have come. But I don't regret being here; I've got a literal eternity to spend in the Underworld."

"Does that mean you're going back?" Eliot asks.

Teddy sighs. "At some point, yes," he says. "This... for me, it isn't permanent. I had my life, Papa. I'll stay as long as I can, but. My story was complete. Dad's wasn't. Neither was yours. I want to make sure you get to live them out fully before I go back."

"How do you know?" Eliot asks, very quietly. "How do you know he wasn't supposed to die in there? What if we're only piecing his soul together so that he can move on?"

"Because his book wasn't finished - wasn't even close to being finished, according to the Penny in the Underworld," Teddy says, reaching over to lay a hand on Eliot's shoulder, squeezing gently. "If nothing else, that's reason enough to hope."

"God," Eliot sighs, his eyes stinging. "I'm a fucking mess. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Teddy murmurs, shifting closer so he can wrap his arms around Eliot. "You were always strong for us, when we were a mess. Now it's my turn."

Eliot leans heavily against him, but he still argues. "You're my kid," he says. "Even if you're older than me now, which is a mind-fuck. I shouldn't be putting this on you."

"You're not putting anything on me that I didn't volunteer to take," Teddy points out. "I came back, and I knew things would be bad. I'm here to help you get Dad back, and that includes supporting you."

Eliot sighs. "You know he might choose to go back with you," he says. "He loved your mom so much."

"He did, and Mom loved him just as much," Teddy agrees. "But... Papa, I really think you're underestimating how much he loved you, too."

"I think you're underestimating just how much I've put him through since we remembered," Eliot says gently.

"Dad put up with your shit for fifty years, and then he asked you to do it again," Teddy says, blunt as a hammer. "Then he spent weeks refusing any plan that didn't end with you alive and safe from the Monster. You telling him 'no' because you were scared is not that bad in comparison to what he put _himself_ through to get you back."

Eliot wants to believe him, but he can't make himself hope. He shakes his head. "I guess we'll see," he says.

Teddy grins. "Does that mean I get to say 'I told you so' when we get him back?"

Eliot rolls his eyes. "We'll see."

* * *

It takes two days for Alice to come up with a working, modified djinn bottle. Apparently, there was some difficulty with making the trigger phrase _stick_ , and not just be overridden by whatever was contained in the bottle. Kady, Penny, and Julia are still chasing down leads on how to unlock Julia’s goddess powers again, but Teddy, Eliot, Margo, and Alice make the trip to Brakebills to track down the first part of Quentin’s soul. Teddy is more used to the city, now, but when they step through the portal to the Brakebills campus, he gapes. “Wow,” he breathes, eyes wide. “This is - It’s stunning.”

Eliot gives Teddy a somewhat strained smile, and gestures across the lawn with the hand he isn't using to lean heavily on his cane. "I met your dad right there."

Margo makes an exaggerated gagging motion while Teddy grins. "Lounging on the sign like a pin-up girl, he said."

"Naturally," Eliot sighs. "Your father never appreciated my aesthetic."

"He appreciated it just fine," Margo assures him, though she sounds vaguely disgusted. "He couldn't keep his jaw off the floor whenever you were around. If you weren't as equally pathetic about him from the word 'go', you'd have noticed that."

Teddy looks delighted at the notion that Eliot was just as smitten with Quentin as the other way around, but Alice clears her throat before he can say anything. "We aren't here for a trip down memory lane," she reminds them. 

"No," Eliot agrees. "What do we need to do?"

Alice rummages through her pack, pulling out a candle, runes inscribed in the wax. "I modified the spell that we used to track Charlie's Niffin," she says. "I light the candle, and the direction of the flame tells us where Quentin's soul is. Margo, you have the bottle ready?"

Margo gives the bottle a little shake. "Duh."

Alice nods. "All right." She holds the candle in her left hand, rolls the fingers of her right, and with a sharp motion, the wick catches fire. It splutters for a moment before the flame strengthens - and then bends sharply to the left. 

Eliot grips his cane tighter. "Let's go."

The candle leads them on a straight path through campus. They ignore the other students milling around, following the candle. Their pace only slows when it becomes clear where the candle is leading them: the Physical Cottage. "Shit," Alice breathes. 

Beside her, Eliot goes rigid. "Fuck," he says. "I really kind of wanted to just never come back here."

Teddy gives Eliot a concerned look, shifting closer so his arm brushes against Eliot's in a gesture of silent comfort and support. "Well, hopefully this won't take long."

"So what the fuck do we do now?" Margo asks.

"Keep following the candle," Alice says, a determined set to her jaw. "And be ready to use the bottle as soon as we find the fragment."

No one stops them as they walk into the Cottage, nor even bats an eye when they follow the flickering candle flame through the rooms. Eliot thinks they might run into trouble when the flame directs them to the library, but no one cares about that, either. Seems these Physical Kids care even less about the security of their books than Eliot did. Still, he glances about himself as he reaches for the door, ignoring the anxiety curdling inside him as he takes in the familiar surroundings. No one so much as raises an eyebrow, so Eliot turns the handle, and they step inside.

The flame is flickering wildly now - they're definitely in the right place - but at first Eliot doesn't get it. The library is empty, silent, still. He takes a breath, and then another one. No one speaks. Eliot stalls in the middle of the room, scanning the shelves intently, disappointment just starting to settle heavily in his stomach - and then he spots it. Almost disappearing into a bookshelf, translucent and shaky and barely there at all, but unmistakable nonetheless.

All of the breath leaves Eliot's body. "Oh, fuck. _Q._ "

The fragment of Quentin's soul doesn't react, still gazing intently at the bookshelf in front of it. It doesn't seem aware of its surroundings in the least, and Teddy makes a low, raw noise. "Dad," he breathes, reaching for Eliot's hand and taking it, squeezing tightly. 

"Margo," Alice murmurs. "The bottle."

Margo uncorks the bottle and murmurs a brief incantation. The fragment of Quentin's soul doesn't even react as it's sucked inside. "Well," Margo says cheerfully as she pops the cork back into the bottle. "That was way too easy."

Teddy has moved from holding Eliot's hand to practically propping him up. "One down, two to go," he sighs. 

The set of Alice's mouth is tense, almost unhappy. "Let's get out of here," she murmurs, glancing around the library. "We need to get to Fillory to find the other two fragments."

"Oh," Eliot says, rather faintly. "Yay."

* * *

They don't linger at Brakebills. Even Teddy can tell that, for whatever reason, Eliot has less-than-fond memories of the place, and no one has any desire to dredge them up if they don't have to. Still, Eliot knows that nobody is surprised when he disappears back into his room as soon as they return to the penthouse. He _is_ surprised when there's a knock soon after. When he opens the door, Margo is standing on the other side with a bottle of very nice red in one hand, a pair of glasses in the other. "I figured you could use a drink, and to not be completely alone," she says.

"You know me better than anyone," Eliot sighs, and steps back to let her in. "That better not be the only bottle."

"It's the only one I'm carrying in; we'll summon the rest," Margo answers, beelining for the bed. "Come on, up here with Mama."

Eliot follows her and crawls up onto the bed; crawls right into her open arms. "You can pour like this, right?" he asks, mumbling into her collarbone.

"I'm not a natural telekinetic, but I can handle a bottle of wine and some glasses," Margo hums, one hand already petting through Eliot's hair. 

"You're the best," Eliot sighs.

Margo doesn't say anything until they both have a glass in their hands, and her fingers never leave Eliot's hair. "None of us liked being back there, but you were pretty antsy, sweetheart," she murmurs. 

Eliot supposes he should have seen that coming. "I have a lot of memories there," he says, very quietly.

Margo makes an encouraging noise. "Memories I don't have, weren't there for," she guesses. 

Eliot smiles. "Yes and no."

"Wanna elaborate?"

"Um." Eliot takes a long drink from his glass. "When the Monster was in the driver's seat, he... He stuck me in my memories of the Cottage. Someone called it the Happy Place. So I spent most of my time just... reliving my best memories there."

"Jesus," Margo breathes, before downing half of her glass in one go. "Who - Do I even want to know who else was there?"

"His name was Charlton," Eliot says. "He was the guy the Monster possessed before me."

Margo finishes her drink. "The guy whose body you shot," she sighs. "Well, fuck. Bet that was... awkward."

"A little," Eliot says. "He was a nice guy."

Margo refills their wine. "Yeah? Did you get it on with your pseudo-Jiminy Cricket?"

Eliot pulls a face. "Don't even go there," he says. "I couldn't. Even if Q couldn't stand the sight of me anymore, I..."

Margo grimaces. "Right. I knew you were gone on him, I just..." She drifts off, then shakes her head slightly. "Fifty years and a family, though? I never thought I'd see the day."

"Me neither," Eliot admits. "That's part of why I pissed it all away as soon as I remembered. I didn't think this version of me got to be that happy. I still don't."

"So when we get him back, you're just going to... what? Let him go? Tell him to fuck off again?"

Eliot winces. "I told myself while I was trapped in there that if I ever got out, I'd tell him how I feel," he confesses. "But he wasn't there. Because he fucking killed himself. I don't know if he'll be in any state to listen when we get him back, or if he'll want to."

Margo sighs. "You better not let that stop you. Give him some time, if he needs to readjust to being alive, or if he's really, truly pissed at you, but don't shoot yourself in the fucking foot when you finally have a chance to be _really_ happy."

"I'm going to tell him," Eliot tells her, though he's not sure which of them he's trying to convince. "I just won't be surprised when it's not enough."

Margo opens her mouth, but then closes it, huffing slightly. "Fine. I don't like you being so pessimistic, but I'm not here to argue with you, I'm here to get you drunk so we can keep moving forward and get Q back."

Eliot waves his empty wine glass. "Well, it's going to take more than this."

Margo just summons another bottle of wine. 

* * *

A few hours later, there's another knock on the door. Eliot and Margo have worked their way through several full bottles of high-quality wine, and have finally slowed down to sipping at their too-full glasses instead of downing half of them in one go. Margo's the one who answers the knock, calling a lazy invitation to come in. 

The door opens to reveal Teddy, who squints into the darkness of the bedroom before his expression relaxes, softens into something sympathetic. "Let me guess, building up some liquid courage?"

"Drowning my sorrows," Eliot corrects him wisely. "And every other emotion. I think Bambi's just along for the ride."

Margo nods. "I'm the moral support."

Teddy's smile turns a little sad, then, as he comes closer. He settles on the other side of the bed, a bit of space left between his hip and Margo's. "The weight of what we're doing hit you hard, now that we've actually managed the first step?"

"When did you get to be such a smartass?" Eliot asks, morose.

"When I was raised by two," Teddy shoots back, reaching out to squeeze Eliot's shoulder. 

Eliot just sighs. "I'm sorry," he says. "I know you've never seen me like this."

"No, but that doesn't mean I don't understand it," Teddy sighs. "I vaguely remember how much of a wreck both of you were after Mom died. Everyone has different ways of coping."

"Yeah," Eliot says, shamefaced, "but this was never mine when you knew me."

Teddy hums an idle noise. "Well, this is a stressful time, bringing your sort-of husband back from the dead, after you were possessed for months."

"Ex-husband," Eliot says, and closes his eyes. "God."

"I mean, you were still married when you both died," Teddy points out. "And you never got together here. So I don't think 'ex-husband' really fits."

Margo snorts. "El, married. That's just... something else. Can't imagine it."

"I thought they were absolutely disgusting, even after I grew up," Teddy says in a conspiratorial whisper. 

"God," Eliot says again, and finishes his glass of wine in two gulps.

* * *

Margo summons another glass for Teddy, and the three of them split another two bottles between them that night. Margo spends the night in Eliot's bed, her and Teddy bracketing Eliot between them when he finally passes out. She's still up before either of them, and gone before they wake up. Teddy, when he realizes this, rolls over with a groan. "Does alcohol just... not affect her?" he mutters, equal parts jealous and awed. 

"Not anymore," Eliot mutters, covering his eyes with his hands. "She was pretty much immune by our first year."

"Lucky," Teddy sighs. "Ugh." The bed shifts as he moves, and even with his hands over his eyes, Eliot can tell his son is staring at him intently. "How are you feeling?"

"Like death," Eliot groans. "Wine hangovers are the worst."

"Lot of experience with hangovers?"

"Plenty," Eliot sighs.

Teddy is quiet for a moment before asking, "Think you're gonna get much more?"

Eliot lowers his hands to squint at Teddy. "What?"

Teddy sighs, shifting so he can look at his father properly. "Is this going to happen every time we make some progress?" he asks, quiet. "Because, Papa... I love you, and I worry about you."

That cuts Eliot to the quick, but he tries not to let it show. "You don't need to worry about me, Teddy."

"You're my family, of course I'm going to worry about you," Teddy counters with a smile. "Same as I worry about Dad. But we're already helping Dad, and I... I just want to see you take care of yourself."

Jesus Christ. Eliot blows out a long, slow breath. "Okay," he says. "I guess it's never really come up before, because I had my shit together by the time you were old enough to remember, but. I have something of a drinking problem. A substance problem in general, actually, and I know they say that acceptance is the first step to recovery, but. Here we are."

Teddy makes an understanding noise. "That's a hard thing to just shake," he murmurs. "Especially in a time like now."

Eliot laughs, shakes his head. "I'd been sober for years by the time I died at the mosaic," he says. "And then even when I remembered that, I was still in the body of a barely-recovering addict. By the time Margo got the Monster out of me, it had already fucked my body up again." He glances at Teddy. "It's not an excuse, but I could be doing a lot worse than drinking right now. God knows I want to."

Teddy shifts closer, until he can wrap Eliot in a hug. "I get that, but... We need you to be as much here as possible, if we're going to pull this off. So you're not just trying to stay sober for yourself. I just... I want you to be happy, Papa. Happy and healthy."

Eliot squeezes Teddy tight, and closes his eyes. "Me too, kid," he whispers. He doesn't mention that he can barely remember the last time he was either.

* * *

Eliot has never really bothered himself with the affairs of anyone who isn't Margo or Quentin - and by association, he supposes, Alice - and he doesn't care to even try to understand whatever's going on between Julia, Penny-23 and Kady, but he has to admit that it's useful. All it takes is for Julia to turn on the waterworks and Penny agrees to Travel them all into Fillory. Eliot does his best not to get too drunk the night before they're due to leave, and the next morning they gather together, as ready as they'll ever be.

One moment they're standing in the middle of Marina's apartment, and the next they're in the throne room of Castle Whitespire.

"Eliot!"

A voice he'd know anywhere. Eliot looks past all the startled courtiers around him and into the eyes of his wife. He wishes he could summon a more sincere smile. "Fen."

"Margo! Queen Alice. What in Ember's name are you all doing here?"

"We're on another quest," Alice says, glancing around the throne room curiously. "This is where we needed to be next."

"You shouldn't be here," Fen says, striding towards them. She looks at Margo. "I banished you."

"Yeah, so I could go save him," Margo drawls, gesturing towards Eliot. "Now he needs to save Quentin, and I need to go on a little quest of my own."

"You do?" Eliot asks sharply.

"I need to get my crown back," Margo says, looking at Eliot with a raised eyebrow. "And you've got plenty of help with Alice and your resurrected son to get Quentin back."

"Bambi," Eliot says, and he hates how weak his voice sounds. "I--"

"You've got this," Margo says firmly. "And I expect you to bring Q back for the re-coronation."

"Bambi," Eliot says again, stronger this time. "I love you."

Before Margo can respond, Fen coughs politely. "Sorry to interrupt," she says. "But what is going on? Where's Quentin?"

* * *

It doesn't take long to explain what happened to Quentin - they'd already had an idea, apparently. Rafe had seen what looked like Quentin's ghost in the castle library, but everyone had dismissed it as part of the mess of magic being properly returned. It takes longer to explain Teddy's existence, because time magic is a bitch to explain to anyone. Still, once Fen and Josh are satisfied for the moment, Teddy, Alice, and Eliot head for the Armory while Margo stays behind to start talking strategy. 

Julia tags along this time, Penny and Kady her usual shadows. She wants to see Quentin's fragment for herself, and use the Armory in Whitespire to do some research. She goes quiet and still when the same enchanted candle leads them to a corner of the Armory, and Alice quietly opens the bottle, speaks the word to draw in his fragment, and closes it. It's anticlimactic, but still leaves Julia visibly shaken. Eliot, Alice, and Teddy leave her with Penny's arm around her shoulders, and go their separate ways. 

Teddy finds Eliot wandering the castle garden that evening, announcing himself by clearing his throat before speaking. "How long have you been on your feet?"

"All day," Eliot answers, but shakes his head. "Don't worry about me."

Teddy snorts. "I'm always going to worry about you," he says fondly. "Someone has to."

"I'm fine," Eliot says with an indulgent smile, though the way he's leaning heavily on his cane sort of undermines that. "I'm just restless. We have two thirds of Q's soul now, we're so close. But you know where we have to go to get the last piece."

"I do," Teddy sighs, moving closer so he can stand next to Eliot, a silent offer of support. "It'll be hard; I left the cottage to Holly, and it's still in the family. They've taken good care of it."

"What do we tell them?" Eliot asks.

Teddy shrugs. "That we're getting Dad back, saving him for once," he suggests. 

"So we tell them who we are?" Eliot asks. He looks old, suddenly; tired. "God. It didn't even occur to me to look for the grandkids."

"They're smart kids, they'll figure it out if we don't tell them," Teddy points out. "I know Amaraline and I had at least one family portrait done."

"Right," Eliot says. He sways in place, just a little. "Okay."

"Let's sit down, Papa," Teddy says gently. "You look like you're about to keel over."

"I'm fine," Eliot says again, though he allows Teddy to grasp his elbow and steer him over to a nearby bench. "Or I would be if my body would get the message that I'm not in my eighties anymore."

"Maybe, but you are still recovering from being possessed for months," Teddy reminds him. "And then dealing with the love of your life dying. Or not dealing with it."

"Asshole," Eliot sighs. He leans his cane against the edge of the bench and rests his hands on his aching knees. "It's not very nice to talk to your father like that."

"It's some tough love," Teddy says, unimpressed. "My point is, you need to quit being so hard on yourself. And I'll keep telling you that for as long as I'm around."

Eliot shakes his head. "I've missed you."

Teddy smiles. "I missed you, too," he murmurs. "And I can't wait to introduce you to your great-grandchildren."

Eliot smiles. "Me neither."

* * *

Teddy eventually coaxes Eliot back into the castle, to the guest rooms they've been assigned, and to bed. They plan to head for the mosaic tomorrow, and even though Fen has already offered the use of the royal carriage, it will be a long journey. Eliot does his best to sleep, but has little success; the early morning light finds him in the kitchens, only to come face-to-face with Fen. Fen startles, nearly dropping the skillet in her hand, but manages to recover. "Eliot," she says, clearly surprised to see him up and about so early. "What are you doing?"

"Sleepwalking," Eliot says, eyeing the skillet warily. "What are _you_ doing, Your Majesty?"

Fen's expression turns sheepish. "I was hungry, and didn't want to wake any servants."

Eliot shakes his head, smiling. "You're too pure for this world, Fen," he says. "It's good to see you."

Fen smiles. "It's good to see you, too," she says warmly. "I - When we were told about the Monster, I mourned you. And when we had a chance to save you, I... wasn't sure if I'd ever see you again, but. I had to help."

"Thank you," Eliot says. "I certainly don't intend to be a stranger once all this is over. I know I haven't been the best husband to you, but I'd like us to be friends."

Fen's smile grows. "I'd like that, too. And, about the husband thing - I've been working on something. You know Fillory doesn't have divorce, but... I think we should. How many others have been in situations like ours, or worse, and they couldn't ever really leave and move on because of their marriage?"

Eliot chokes on a surprised laugh. "You want to divorce me?"

Fen flushes. "I mean. I really like you, Eliot. And I _do_ think that we can be good friends. But I don't think we make a very good husband and wife."

Eliot gives her a soft smile. "I think you're right."

Fen look relieved. "And I - I want to find someone I _can_ have a good marriage with, one we both want for non-saving-the-world-reasons. And I want you to have that chance, too."

Eliot feels his smile wobble a little, and while he manages to hold onto it, he thinks it looks more like a grimace now. "Me too," he says. "Thank you, Fen."

Fen's smile is gentle, a little uncertain in the face of how his slipped. "What are you planning now?" she asks, turning towards the stove. "I know Margo wants her throne back, and Queen Alice told me last night she means to return to the Library in the Neitherlands and reform it."

Eliot blows out a slow breath, and leans back to settle against the nearest work surface. "I don't really have any plans," he admits. "Everything in me right now is so focused on getting Q back. Beyond that, I have no idea."

Fen hums a thoughtful sound. "Your son," she says after a moment, sounding almost hesitant. "Is... he back for good?"

"I don't think so," Eliot says. "He lived his life, and he was with his mom and his wife and, Christ, his kids before we pulled him back. He's just here to help us save Q."

Fen nods. "I hope he'll stay long enough for Quentin to spend some time with him, too."

"I'm sure he will," Eliot says. "He's not in any rush; it's not like he can miss the train to being dead."

That earns a laugh, and Fen gives Eliot a grin. "I suppose that's true. Well, while you're up, would you like some eggs?"

"You know what," Eliot says, laughing, "yes. I would love some eggs."

* * *

After breakfast with Fen, Eliot retreats back to his room, where he and Teddy prepare themselves for the journey to the mosaic. Alice is going with Eliot and Teddy, as her magic is the most stable and thus the safest for trapping the final fragment of Quentin's soul. Julia, Penny, and Kady are going off... somewhere, Eliot isn't entirely sure where - or even if _they're_ sure - to chase another lead on getting Julia's goddess powers back. Hopefully, if Julia gets them back, she can put Quentin's soul back together again. 

The ride to the mosaic is awkward, a little tense, as Teddy chatters almost ceaselessly about his family. Holly had been given the Cottage, and apparently she was now a grandmother herself. Her oldest son, Sebastian, had just married a widower with a young daughter, and Teddy is eager to take advantage of this chance to meet his great-great-granddaughter. Alice doesn't say much of anything until the carriage finally stops, and she sees the mosaic for the first time through the window. 

"Oh," she breathes, eyes wide. "It's... It is kind of beautiful."

"It's home," Eliot says, his voice hushed and awed - and it is. Especially now, this place feels more like home than the Physical Cottage or Castle Whitespire ever did. He clears his throat, blinks away the sudden sting of tears. "Let's go meet the grandkids."

Alice takes a deep, somewhat shaky, breath, and nods. "Okay."

Teddy gives them both a grin before he practically throws his door open and jumps out of the carriage; they've attracted the attention of the family, and they've all come out to stare curiously at the royal carriage. Teddy beams, stepping forward. "Holly! Gods, you grew up well; I'm so proud of you. How's Abel?"

The older woman, her hair just touched by silver, blinks in shock. " _Granddad?_ " she demands, stepping forward. "What in the name of Umber's left testicle are you doing here? We buried you!"

Teddy nods. "You did," he agrees. "But I'm helping my parents, and I got... special permission to visit from the Underworld to do so. And you didn't answer my question."

Holly laughs, like she can't quite believe this is happening, and steps forward so she can pull Teddy into a hug. "Dad's doing well; he and Mom are in the village, still helping run the inn, even though they're _supposed_ to be retired now. Still refusing to put down the carpentry tools, too." When they pull back from each other, she finally looks over Teddy's shoulder, and her eyes widen. "Is that - "

"Former High King Eliot and current Queen Alice," Teddy says, nodding. "Your great-grandfather, and one of his friends."

Eliot takes a couple of hesitant steps towards them. "Hi," he rasps. "It's so good to meet you."

Holly stares at him for a moment before she steps forward, searching Eliot's face intently. "It is you," she murmurs, abruptly sounding choked - and then she darts in for a fierce hug that is nonetheless mindful of his cane. 

Eliot stumbles back a step, more in shock than from the sudden weight of her in his arms, but he finds his footing quickly and hugs her back just as tight. "I wish I'd come sooner," he tells her. "I didn't know."

"You're here now," Holly mumbles, giving Eliot a squeeze. "We knew why you couldn't come, then and now."

Eliot sighs and releases her. "Do you know why we're here now?" he asks.

Holly bites her lip. "We thought, when it showed up... Well, you'd either be along soon, or you'd never come at all."

"'It'?" Alice echoes, voice soft and careful. 

Holly's expression turns just a little sad. "Follow me."

So they follow her across the clearing, past the mosaic frame now filled with beautiful wildflowers, and into the cottage itself. Just inside the door the rest of the family have gathered: a man who somehow looks more like Teddy than Quentin, but who is nonetheless very obviously a Coldwater, and a man and a little girl who can only be Sebastian's husband and stepdaughter. Eliot smiles, starts to say something in greeting, but then movement further inside the cottage draws his eye over to the hearth, and his breath catches.

The cottage itself has had a lick of paint or two since Eliot was last in it, a few new cushions added to the bench and the pot above the fire is different, but it's still the same cottage. The door towards the back of the room suggests the annexe they built when Teddy was born is still standing. But although the cottage still feels familiar, all of these little differences, these little touches that make it very much someone else's home, make the fragment of Quentin's soul look completely out of place. He's old, here, easily as old as he was when Eliot died - bent towards the fire like his back hurts. Eliot thinks his heart may have stopped in his chest.

"Oh, God," he breathes.

Teddy fumbles for Eliot's hand, and Alice pulls in a sharp breath. "How long has it been here?" she asks, voice hushed. 

"Several weeks," Holly answers, just as quietly. She's moved to stand next to her son, who's wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close. "Most times, we can barely see it. Sometimes it's a little clearer. But it never says anything, never responds to us, just... wanders."

"It's his soul," Eliot whispers, and even to his own ears he sounds... broken. "He fractured his soul. It went back to all the places he died. I--" He shakes his head, takes an unsteady step back. "I can't."

Teddy's hand tightens around Eliot's, and Eliot is vaguely aware of him and Alice communicating without words for a moment. "Let's sit down," Teddy murmurs. "Do you want to sit outside?"

Eliot drags his gaze away from the fragment with some difficulty, but then he nods. The gentle way Teddy guides him outside should rankle, as should the pity in the eyes of Holly and her family, but he's too tired. They lead him to a bench in the garden outside, one he's fairly sure wasn't here when he and Quentin were, and he sinks onto it heavily, buries his face in his hands as his shoulders start to shake.

Teddy pulls Eliot in close, wraps his arms around his shuddering father and hums a wordless, soothing noise as he waits for Eliot to catch his breath. But he can't. Eliot can't breathe, can't fucking think past the aching, desperate grief that's trying to swallow him whole. He curls in on himself, away from Teddy, and sobs helplessly into his hands.

Somewhere above him, he hears Alice's voice. "I'm just going to... go get the fragment."

Teddy lets Eliot pull away from him, though he doesn't let Eliot out of his arms completely. Alice leaves them quietly, and Teddy waits until she's gone before he speaks. "Just let it out, Papa," he murmurs. "Never good to hold it in, and I think you've done too much of that."

"Don't," Eliot says, his voice as ragged as his breathing. "I don't get to just sit around here and _cry_ after what I did to him."

"Are you saying that to punish yourself?" Teddy asks, tone even. "Or because you genuinely regret what you did, and want to make it better?"

"Oh, fuck you," Eliot groans. "You know I regret it. I just-- Fuck. Seeing him like that. I fucking. _Destroyed him_ , and if Julia can't get her powers back, _he'll_ never know I regret it."

"So you're saying it to punish yourself," Teddy surmises. "Right. Okay. I've told you, Papa, that what matters is you're trying to fix things - but obviously you aren't listening. I kind of get the feeling you aren't _going_ to listen, until Dad can tell you for himself that he hates you and wants to go back to the Underworld with me, is that right?"

"Best to hear it from the horse's mouth, right?"

Teddy takes a very, _very_ deep breath. "Papa, I love you. But you're a self-punishing moron, sometimes. You made your choices, and Dad made his own - and you don't actually _know_ why he made the decisions he did, or what he feels. Granted, I don't either, but this whole 'woe is me, I told the man I’m in love with I wouldn't be with him because I'm scared, and then when I got back from being possessed he was dead' thing is getting real old, real fast. You two lived fifty _fucking_ years together, and argued about every single fucking thing a couple could argue about. You hurt Dad pretty damn badly, yeah. But he never fucking gave up on you, so how _dare_ you give up on yourself?"

Eliot raises his head then just to gape at Teddy, his face wet and his eyes raw. He opens his mouth to fire something back, but finds that he has nothing to say.

Teddy sighs. "If you want to brace for the possibility that he tells you to get fucked and moves on to the Underworld, that's one thing,” he says, tone more gentle now. “But you _know_ Dad, and you _know_ that, if we pull this off, you'll at least get the chance to talk to him and apologize before he goes. But he spent _months_ working to save you, going up against an unkillable Monster to do so. He never gave up on you, so you damn well don't get to give up on yourself. You have a chance, Papa. A chance for everything to work out so you can _move on_ with Dad. Don't waste it by convincing yourself that you've lost before you've even started."

Eliot sniffles, wipes the tears from his face. "When did you become so wise?"

"Somewhere around the time I had to help my own teenage son through his heartbreaks," Teddy answers, smiling. "I used some of the advice my fathers gave me."

"You're full of shit," Eliot huffs, but he wipes his face again and takes a breath. "Okay. What now?"

"Now, we go spend some time with our family, and give Aunt Julia time to get her powers back," Teddy says, taking Eliot's hand in his. 

Eliot smiles, and lets Teddy help him to his feet.

* * *

They pass the day with their family. It's slightly awkward, at first, with Alice there, but eventually she settles into a spot by the hearth, watching quietly and talking with Sebastian's husband, Mikhail, about his own magic specialty. He's a glass artisan, specializing in stained glass; his crafts are in high demand, because his control over fire magics gives him the ability to fine-tune the curves of the glass and make them throw light _just_ so, in beautiful, intricate patterns no one else can match. "I build houses, but Mikhail makes them truly beautiful," Sebastian jokes at one point, recounting how he and Mikhail had met and courted. 

Holly and Sebastian catch Eliot and Teddy up on their family, including all of the gossip and happenings since Teddy had passed. Eliot barely notices the day passing, enthralled with the story of a family he hadn't ever met, had only recently figured out _actually_ existed in this timeline. He does notice, however, when Holly's head snaps up sometime after dinner but before full dark, eyes flicking to the window. Her brow furrows before she announces, "Something powerful just crossed the wards."

Teddy looks at Eliot, eyes wide - hopeful, just a little fearful. "Do you think - "

Eliot's on his feet in an instant, though he doesn't forget his cane as he hastens to the door and throws it open. " _Julia._ "

Julia is, indeed, standing in the yard next to the mosaic - and she's quite literally glowing. Penny and Kady are behind her, and there's a noticeably new tension there. Neither of them look at the other as Julia gives Eliot a near-blinding smile. "Eliot, we did it!" she cries, running forward to wrap her arms around him in a nearly-too-tight hug. "We did it, I can put Q's soul back together, we can bring him back."

"God," Eliot gasps, wrapping one arm around her and holding on. "Are you sure?"

"God _dess,_ " Julia corrects, laughing. "I'm sure. I did speak with Persephone - just for a minute - and she said it was possible, that healing like that is... It's kind of my thing, as a goddess. Putting right what went wrong."

"Major mendings," Eliot whispers, choked. "Julia, _thank you_."

Julia hugs Eliot again, and then she takes a step back, reaching to take his hand in hers. "I can fix your body, too," she tells him. "I can... feel, what the Monster did to it. I can give you a clean slate, so to speak. Physically, at least."

Eliot just... stares at her. "You can do that?"

Julia nods. "It won't - fix everything. I can't cure an addiction, the mental part of it. But I can fix your body, erase the physical effects. Give you a chance to start over, without the handicap of withdrawal."

Eliot opens his mouth, closes it again. Part of him actually wants to reject her offer. His body aches now more than he can remember it ever aching when he was in his eighties; he wakes up and goes to sleep needing a drink, whether he's just finished one or ten or none, and he knows between that and both his own and the Monster's rampant drug use his body has suffered otherwise-irreparable damage. But it feels almost like penance. He should suffer, he should hurt in more ways than he can name, not just for what he did to Quentin but for all of the bad decisions he's made in his life, all the people he's hurt with his own selfishness, his own need. He's a vicious, poisonous person: it only stands to reason that that poison should turn itself on his own body, that he should feel the sting of it himself.

But Teddy would probably smack him for giving voice to all of this. Margo definitely would; maybe Q would, too. And isn't this what he wants? A fresh start, the chance to begin again, with Quentin - even without him? Teddy was right; he can't make things right, learn to be a better person, if he just beats himself up and doesn't try to move forward, to grow.

Eliot takes a breath, makes himself meet Julia's gaze, and squeezes her hand. "If you can," he says. "If you're sure you can spare the... the energy. Q comes first."

Julia's smile is soft, like she knows what Eliot's struggling with - and maybe she does, maybe she can feel that, too. "I'm sure," she promises. "We need to make another golem for Q, and that will give me time to recharge if I misjudge how much effort this will take."

Eliot's smile comes a little easier at that. "Then okay," he says. "Please, do it."

Julia squeezes his hand, and then the glow around her body intensifies, her eyes turning a molten gold as warmth spreads from her hand to Eliot's. It spreads through his body, like sinking into a almost-too-hot bath, and leaves him feeling he's been vigorously scrubbed with a loofah, inside and out. 

He gasps when it's over, feeling like he can breathe easily for the first time in years. He's not sure she could name all the things she's just fixed inside of him, and he's not sure that he wants to know, but he feels different. Lighter. New. He hugs Julia to him again. "Thank you," he says. "I know I haven't been... the best friend to you. But thank you, for everything."

Julia hugs him back. "No thanks needed," she murmurs before pulling back. She smiles, and if it's a little watery, neither of them mention it. "Why don't you introduce me to your family before we start making Q's new body?"

Eliot grins and offers her his arm. "I'm sure they've all been watching us through the window," he says. "Come on. They're dying to meet you."

* * *

Eliot's family is eager to meet Julia, just as predicted, but they are still understanding when Teddy finally puts his foot down and reminds them all about why they came to Fillory, to the mosaic, in the first place. They make their goodbyes, send a rabbit to Whitespire and Margo, Fen, and Josh, and then Penny and Julia Travel everyone back to New York. 

The next few days are a rush of preparations, finding living clay to make a golem from, as well as every other ritual component they need. Julia is confident this will go easily, without any complications, but she also agrees that it doesn't hurt to be prepared. And after days of hard work, they eventually are. 

They set themselves up similarly to the first ritual, though this time, Julia will be doing all of the work once Alice releases the fragments of Quentin's soul from the bottle. Now, as then, they all take one last look at each other, and then start the ritual. 

Alice releases the fragments with a murmured word in Arabic, and Julia catches them with her magic before they can go too far. She surrounds the fragments in a soft gold light, brow furrowed in concentrate as the light shines brighter and brighter. The fragments spin within it - and then merge, turning into one bright, brilliant white light surrounded by Julia's magic. From there, she guides the newly-repaired soul to the waiting body, her magic helping tether it. Everyone holds their breath, waiting, _hoping_ \- 

After a moment, the soul sinks into the body on the table, and for the first time in months, Quentin Coldwater breathes. 

Before anyone else has a chance to react, Julia is there, grasping Quentin by the elbows and pulling him upright. "Hey, hey, are you okay?"

Quentin grabs Julia's upper arms, holds on tight enough that, if she weren't a goddess, his fingerprints would be visible in the bruises. "Am I - " He stops, swallows. "Am I dead? Are _you_ dead?"

"No," Julia says quickly. "No, we brought you back; you're alive, Q, you're okay."

Quentin stares at her for another moment, and then his face _crumples._ He pitches forward, wraps his arms around Julia and just sobs, great, heaving sobs of sheer _relief._

"Hey," Julia says, holding him close, her eyes wide as she looks around at the others over the top of his head. "Hey, hey, Q, you're okay, I promise, it's all okay."

She looks first to Eliot for help, but Eliot can't make himself move. Instead, it's Alice who approaches them next. She draws closer, until she can put a hand on Quentin's shoulder; when he looks up, she gives him a soft smile. "Welcome back, Quentin," she murmurs, drawing him in for a hug. Quentin's quieted now, but he's still shaking, shuddering as he tries to control his breathing, and they're both a little teary-eyed when they finally pull back. "I think there's someone you need to see."

"What do you - " Alice cuts him off with a tilt of her head, and Quentin follows the motion, gaze catching briefly on Eliot before he spots - " _Teddy?_ "

"Hey, Dad," Teddy says, stepping forward. "I missed you."

"Oh, fuck, _Teddy,_ " Quentin breathes, and then he's standing on shaky legs so he can take his son into his arms. 

The embrace lasts for a long moment, and Eliot aches to see it. Unlike Julia, Quentin doesn't look at the others. He squeezes his eyes shut, his arms around Teddy's shoulders, his face mostly hidden against Teddy's shirt, like he's trying to commit every part of this moment to memory. If he feels anything like Eliot did that first time, that's exactly what he's doing.

"Mom says hi," Teddy whispers, and Eliot looks away from them then, to allow them what privacy he can. "She says she loves you."

"Oh, God," Quentin whispers, squeezing Teddy. "I don't - How?"

"We tried to get you back sooner," Julia admits, "but we summoned Teddy instead. He's been helping us figure things out."

Quentin blinks. "Why couldn't you get me?"

Teddy pulls back to look at him, while Julia sends a worried glance Eliot's way. "How much do you remember?" Teddy asks.

Quentin shakes his head. "I remember the Mirror Realm, Everett, and telling Penny to get Alice out of there."

"You fucking cast in there," Penny spits. "You got ripped apart."

Quentin winces. "That's why I told you to get her out," he says. "I knew that you'd never get to me in time."

"Bullshit," Penny snaps, but Julia silences him with a look.

"We brought Teddy back because you weren't dead," she explains. "Your soul fractured in the Mirror Realm, but you didn't die. So we had to find the fragments."

"Oh." Quentin hesitates, bites his lip. "How long..."

"It's been almost four months," Alice says quietly. 

"Oh. Fuck."

"It's okay, though," Teddy says, gripping Quentin's arms. "You're back, you're fine. Everything's fine."

"Even..." And now, _finally,_ Quentin looks at Eliot - and there's too many emotions on his face to parse them all. "El."

Eliot still can't make himself move, but he manages to speak. "Hey, Q."

Quentin swallows, stepping back from Teddy so he can move towards Eliot. He doesn't say anything at first, not until he's within arm's reach. "Shit, you're really okay," he breathes - and then he's moving again, wrapping his arms around Eliot's shoulders and pulling him in for a hug that would have hurt before Julia healed him. 

Eliot doesn't really know what to do with himself, so he just... _melts_ against Quentin, and somehow finds the wherewithal to hug him back. "I'm fine," he rasps, low and soft. "You're here."

"Thanks to you all," Quentin mutters, voice thick. "I - God, I'm so glad it worked, we saved you."

"Me too," Eliot murmurs, "believe me."

After another too-long moment, they finally pull away from each other. Quentin gives Eliot a small, almost uncertain smile, before he steps back and turns to the group. "So. I guess there's a lot I need to catch up on, huh?"

"Plenty," Alice says, with a meaningful look around the room. "Why don't we order some food, and we can get you caught up?"

Eliot sees his chance, and he grabs it with both hands. "Leave that to me," he says. "I know what everyone likes." He turns and leaves the room in search of his phone.

Eliot doesn't speak to Quentin until after dinner. Quentin's a bit overwhelmed, understandably, at hearing about how they had to capture pieces of his _soul_ and bring them back together, so Eliot fully expects Quentin to disappear into one of the bedrooms shortly after dinner is put away. He's not expecting Quentin to find him in the kitchen washing up. "Hey," Quentin says, startling Eliot. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Eliot says, turning to give Quentin a quick smile before he goes back to his task. "Are you?"

"Still a little off-kilter, trying to... come to terms with everything," Quentin answers with a self-conscious laugh. "But I'm glad to be back. I was just... wondering, though. Since you practically bolted from the living room to order dinner."

"Oh," Eliot says, gesturing vaguely with a soapy hand, "you know, I just wanted to give you some space."

Quentin hesitates. "Space? For what?"

"I don't know," Eliot admits. "To get your bearings, work things out with Julia, and Alice? Spend some time with Teddy. I've had him all to myself for weeks."

"Oh," Quentin says, quiet. there's something in his voice that Eliot can't quite place. "Yeah, I guess that - I mean, he said he wasn't planning to stay forever."

"Yeah," Eliot sighs. "He needs to be with his family." He steals a glance at Quentin over his shoulder, and then looks away again.

"Right, yeah," Quentin says, practically mutters. He takes a deep breath, gives Eliot a smile and gestures to the sink. "Want any help there?"

Eliot lets out a heavy breath. "No," he sighs. "No, I'm good. You get some sleep."

"Right, yeah, okay," Quentin says hastily. "I'll - I'll see you later, Eliot."

Eliot can't make himself turn around. "Yeah, see you."

* * *

Eliot doesn't see Quentin much over the next few days. He keeps himself to himself, and Quentin seems pretty occupied with Julia, Alice and of course Teddy. Eliot can't begrudge him his time with their son and his friends. He doesn't have a monopoly on Quentin, can't be upset that Quentin doesn't seek him out again after that first night. Besides, even if he did, Eliot has no idea what he would say to him.

He isn't surprised when Teddy comes to find him on the third evening. Everyone else has gone to bed, and Eliot is just setting the living room back to rights before he retires himself. He looks up when Teddy comes in and offers him a gentle smile. "Hey. Everything okay?"

"I don't know, Papa, you tell me," Teddy says, leaning against the couch. "Have you talked to Dad?"

"You know I have," Eliot deflects, suddenly very interested in straightening the couch cushions.

"Mhm. Let me clarify, then. Have you talked to him one-on-one since after we had dinner the other day? Or only when everyone else is around and you're asking him to pass the pepper."

Eliot rolls his eyes. "Don't be a smart-ass. I just haven't had the chance."

"You haven't had the chance for three days?" Teddy asks, sounding unimpressed. "Papa."

"He's been busy," Eliot protests.

"He would happily make time for you if you just _asked,_ " Teddy retorts, clearly frustrated. "He can spend time with the rest of us whenever he wants, I'm not planning on leaving soon, so he can spare five fucking minutes for you to talk to him!"

"It's not that simple," Eliot hisses, frustration mounting.

Teddy is quickly crossing the line from frustrated to exasperated. "Enlighten me, then," he snaps back. "What complicated reason is keeping you from talking to the man who was your husband for fifty goddamn years?"

"Because he's not my husband!" Eliot cries. "I've spent the last four months grieving like a fucking widower, but he's not my husband, because when he asked me to try again I basically told him I wanted a divorce!"

Neither of them notice the figure at the top of the stairs to the second story of the loft. "So all that talk of moving on and moving forward, of apologizing, was that all shit?" Teddy demands. "Just talk? We finally got Dad back and you're going to go right back to how it was after Aunt Margo got the Time Key from Jane's grave?"

"No," Eliot sighs, defeated, "of course not. But it's not that simple. I just-- I didn't really believe we'd get him back, and now that he is back I just need some time to get my head on straight."

"You've never been straight a day in your life, and I'm sure you don't want to start now," Teddy says, but he's - finally - smiling. "Just. Look, I asked Dad about it, if you'd talked, and he gave me some bullshit excuse that means he thinks you don't actually want to talk to him. So you're probably going to have to ovary up and talk to him first, and you should probably do it sooner rather than later."

Eliot gives him a half-hearted glare. "You've spent too much time with Margo."

Teddy gives him his best wide-eyed-innocence look. "I just want my parents to be happy, and they have a good chance to be happy _together._ Can you blame me for wanting to see them give it a chance?"

"Of course not," Eliot sighs. "I am going to talk to him. One of your fathers is the bravest man I know, and the other one's a fucking coward. What else is new?"

Teddy stops, blinks. "I - " He takes a deep breath, and then moves forward, wrapping Eliot in a hug before he can react. "You're not a coward," he mumbles, face pressed into the crook of Eliot's neck. "Being scared doesn't make you a coward."

"Yeah," Eliot sighs, hugging Teddy back. "I guess we'll find out."

They stay like that for another few minutes before finally drawing apart. They bid each other goodnight, Teddy extracting a promise from Eliot to get some rest before he heads upstairs. Eliot is left alone for all of two minutes before there's footsteps on the stairs again, descending this time, and then Quentin speaks. "So, I thought you needed some space, but... Apparently there's some things we need to talk about? So we can move on."

 _Oh, fuck._ Rather than pass out or puke all over Quentin, Eliot deflects, spinning away from him and over to the armchair so that he can fuss with the cushions. "Were you listening in on my conversation with our son?" he asks mildly. "Because that's very rude, Quentin."

"I didn't mean to," Quentin says, and to his credit he does sound a little guilty. "I just... I was coming down for a drink, maybe to say hi, but then I heard... Well, I heard you tell Teddy that you basically asked me for a divorce."

"I wasn't lying to him," Eliot says, defensive. "Did you not want our kid to know that we broke up? Because he knew long before we brought him back to life. He had some rather strong words for me from his mother about it."

Quentin winces. "Yeah, no. He had some from both of them for me, too. But the thing is... Everything Teddy and Arielle had to say to me was about - about me letting the man I love just blatantly lie to me like that. Letting him just walk away without putting all my cards on the table."

Eliot laughs, bows his head. "Then I bet you can guess what they had to say to me."

"Yeah, I - I can guess," Quentin sighs. "And I can guess that Teddy hasn't let up on you."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Eliot asks, glib.

"The fact that I know our son?" Quentin says wryly. He huffs something that might almost be a laugh, and takes a step forward. "I think we should listen to him, though. And Ari. So... cards on the table?"

Eliot sighs and straightens up, but he doesn't put the cushion in his hands down, instead holding it in front of him like a shield. "I swear I was going to talk to you," he says. "But I know you want to move on, so, sure. Cards on the table."

"Cards on the table," Quentin repeats, sounding rather like he's bracing himself as he takes a deep breath. "Okay. I'm in love with you. I was pretty damn close to being in love with you before we went to the mosaic, but that..." He shrugs. "It was proof of concept. It - It was enough to convince me to ask about giving it a shot here and now. It hurt when you said no, and I. I couldn't make myself try again, try to make you listen. And then shit hit the fan, and suddenly the most important thing was to get the Monster out of you and destroyed."

"Jesus," Eliot breathes. For a moment he's too stunned to do anything except stare at Quentin, but he stares for so long that anxiety starts to creep in around the corners of Quentin's eyes, and Eliot makes himself find his tongue. He clears his throat. "Okay. I... When I was trapped, by the Monster, in my own head. I had a lot of time to think, and a lot of time to revisit old memories. In order to break out to talk to you in the park that day, I had to go through my worst memory; my biggest regret. And that was turning you down that night, after we remembered everything from the mosaic. I knew when it happened that I was running from you because you make me happier than I've ever been, and I didn't think I deserved that. I still don't. But I told myself then that if I ever got free of the Monster, I'd be honest. And when I woke up, and you were gone..." He squeezes the cushion tight against the onslaught of despair that memory brings. "It almost killed me."

"Oh," Quentin breathes. "That - So. Was 'peaches and plums' not just... so I'd know it was you, not the Monster?"

"You were right," Eliot says, helpless to hold back the tears in his eyes. "Everything you said on that altar was right. We work. We're meant to be together. You're the love of my fucking life, and I threw it all away."

Quentin steps forward, within reach. Although he doesn't reach out quite yet, there's a new hope in his eyes. "We've got another chance, now."

"Do we?" Eliot asks, a little desperately. "Penny told me what happened in the Mirror Realm; so did Alice. I know you tried to kill yourself, Q."

Quentin bites his lip, gaze dropping. "I'm not. Proud of that," he says, halting. "I was just - so _exhausted,_ mentally, emotionally, physically, magically. I just wanted to fucking _rest,_ and I was pretty sure you were safe. That..." He swallows, hard. "That seemed like a fair trade," he whispers. "My life to make sure you wouldn't have to deal with the Monster again."

Well, doesn't that just rip Eliot open? "I get it," he says, very quietly. "I don't know the half of what that thing did to you because no one will tell me, but I know it was bad. But Q, you have to know, any trade that means I'd lose you is one I'd never make. That's how we got into that mess in the first place."

Quentin laughs, then, but it's humorless. "It's how we got into that mess in the Mirror Realm," he spits. "Because I refused every single plan that ended with your body dead - with _you_ dead." He stops, takes a shuddering breath. "We're two peas in a fucking pod, that way."

Eliot can't keep his anguish off his face. "I'm so sorry," he says. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, and I'm so sorry I hurt you. I have no excuse, except that I'm a fucking coward."

Quentin's expression twists into a frown. "You're really not. Being afraid of something doesn't automatically make you a coward. But... why didn't you say anything? I mean, I've been back for days, and - and you never talked to me."

Eliot laughs, harsh and self-deprecating. "Because I was scared," he says. "I didn't even want to let myself believe that we would get you back, and if we did... Well. I've been halfway convinced that even if I told you everything, it wouldn't be enough. I was scared you'd want to go to the Underworld, to be with Teddy and Arielle."

Quentin's expression shifts then, into something anguished, sad. "El, I - I got another chance. _You_ brought me back, gave me another chance. I had my life with Arielle, with Teddy. And with you, but... I'm selfish enough to want another lifetime with you before we _both_ go to the Underworld to be with our family."

Eliot closes his eyes, and a few tears slip free. "I missed you so much," he whispers.

He can hear Quentin move forward, feel Quentin's thumb brush away the tears. "I missed you, too," he says, just as quiet. 

Eliot leans into the touch, his lips parting on a soft sigh, and when he opens his eyes Quentin is so close, close enough to kiss. He doesn't, though - not yet. "I love you," he breathes.

Quentin lets out a breath that sounds distinctly relieved. "I love you, too," he murmurs. "Now, will you please kiss me?"

Eliot doesn't need to be asked twice. He gets a hand around the back of Quentin's neck and ducks down to bring their lips together. The kiss is soft, lingering; Quentin presses in close, wraps an arm around Eliot's waist as they eventually part with a quiet sound. Eliot doesn't let him go far, just tips their foreheads together and squeezes the back of his neck. "This is really weird timing, so I'm definitely not asking you to marry me," he murmurs. "But I also kind of am asking you to marry me?"

Quentin laughs, a helpless sort of sound. "Seriously?"

"Maybe, yeah," Eliot says, laughing too. "I've spent the last few months feeling like I lost my husband, after I made the biggest mistake of my fucking life and told him to pretend we were never married in the first place. So, in the words of a very brave man I know, why the fuck not? We work. We've got proof of concept. You _feel_ like my husband. Why not make it official?"

Quentin laughs again, but it's delighted. "Sure, okay," he says, grinning as he tips his head up for another kiss. "Why the fuck not?"

Eliot kisses Quentin soundly, and wraps him up in his arms. "Come to bed with me," he murmurs. "Fuck everything else, just. Be with me."

Quentin smiles against Eliot's lips. "I thought you'd never ask."

They make their way to Eliot's room - he's still in the same one on the main floor, still has the biggest bed - without letting go of each other. When they cross the threshold, they close the door behind them, they stop, kissing each other breathless. Without talking, they fall into the rhythm they shared for almost fifty years, undressing themselves and each other without expectation, trading kisses all the while, until they're finally beneath the sheets, their skin warm against each other's. They keep kissing even then, wrapped up together in the centre of the bed, but there's no urgency to it. This isn't about sex. It's about relearning each other, about getting back to the easy intimacy they took for granted in that other life. Eventually even their kisses slow to a stop, but they stay close, curled together in the centre of the bed.

They drift on the edge of sleep, sharing a pillow, sharing breath, and it's only in this quiet moment that Eliot feels safe enough to admit, very softly, "I think our son thinks I'm an alcoholic."

Quentin hums a quiet, inquiring noise. "What makes you say that?"

"He basically told me as much," Eliot confesses. "And I think he's right."

"What happened?" It's barely more than a murmur, just loud for Eliot to hear - and to hear the complete lack of judgment behind the words. 

Eliot sighs heavily. "I've been... drinking," he says. "A lot. To cope, mostly, I guess. I don't want to feel a lot of the things I've been feeling. After we captured the first fragment of your soul, I was a mess. I got pretty wasted. Teddy pulled me to one side, asked me to stop."

Quentin makes a comforting sound, arm tightening around Eliot. "Did you?"

"I've tried," Eliot admits. "It's hard. Julia fixed me, she healed all the damage I've done to myself, but she said she can't fix how much I want it."

Quentin nods in understanding. "Is it... bad? The want?"

"Sometimes," Eliot admits. "Most of the time."

"Right now?"

"It's easier, right now," Eliot admits. "Now that we've talked. But I still want a drink."

Quentin tugs Eliot a little closer, so he can tuck himself under Eliot's chin. "Tell me whenever it gets bad?" he requests. "I want to help, however I can."

"I will," Eliot promises, and kisses the top of Quentin's head. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Quentin smiles, presses a kiss of his own to Eliot's collarbone. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Eliot promises. "I know I've said it before, but I'm so glad you're here."

"'M glad I'm here, too," Quentin mumbles, clearly already drifting off to sleep. "Night, El."

* * *

That night is the most restful either of them have had in... longer than they can remember. Wrapped in each other's arms, all finally feels right with the world. They lounge in bed for a while the next morning, trading kisses and soft touches. Eventually, however, the rumbling of their stomachs becomes too much to ignore, and so they venture out to the rest of the loft in search of breakfast. 

What they find first is their son, wearing a shit-eating grin as he watches them come out of the same bedroom hand-in-hand. "Guess you two finally talked, huh?" he calls, catching the attention of everyone else, gathered in the kitchen while Penny and Julia put together breakfast.

"No thanks to you and your meddling," Eliot says archly. "Try not to be too smug about it."

"Too late," Teddy says cheerfully. "I'm going to be very smug about this for a while."

Quentin swats idly at Teddy's head as they pass, finding seats at the kitchen island. "Amaraline will have to stick a pin in your head to let you back into the Underworld," he muses. 

Teddy sticks his tongue out at his father, smoothing the hair Quentin had disturbed. "At least now you two won't get lectured too badly by Mom when you finally get down there," he retorts. "Really, you should've heard some of the rants she went on about stupid, emotionally-constipated, sacrificing men."

Eliot rolls his eyes. "Whatever," he says. "We got there in the end."

"Sorry," Julia cuts in, though her grin gives away the fact that she's really not, "but does all of that - " She gestures at the three of them " - mean you two actually _talked?_ and sorted yourselves out?"

Quentin smiles sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Yeah, yeah," Eliot breezes. "We're together, we're wildly in love, we're getting married. You can all close your mouths now."

His words have the exact opposite effect, however; every person's jaw drops. "I'm sorry," Kady says, staring at them like they've each grown an additional set of limbs. "Did you say _married?_ Didn't you _just_ get together?"

"We just got _back_ together," Eliot corrects. "We were married for decades in a different life."

Julia has abandoned the stove to Penny, in favour of turning to gape at Quentin. "Are you being serious?" she asks. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I am," Quentin says without hesitation. "I'm serious. This is what I want, Jules - what I wanted for a long time. Last night was just... the first time we got to talk about it."

Julia stares at him for another long moment - and then grins. "I'm so happy for you."

"Congrats," Penny offers, his tone belying the roll of his eyes that accompanies the offering. 

"Are you going to do a big ceremony?" Alice asks, curious. 

Eliot glances at Quentin. "I don't think I want to," he admits. "Margo will kill me, but we already did all that. I just want to sign some paperwork and make it official."

Quentin nods. "I don't want a _huge_ ceremony," he says. "But I do want a small one, with our friends. We didn't get that the first time around."

Eliot gives Quentin a soft smile. "I know," he says. "We'll keep it simple, but we'll have everyone there."

Quentin returns Eliot's smile, but it's Kady who speaks up next. "I know a Hedge who works as a registrar. I could probably pull some strings, get you bumped up in the line once you start the paperwork," she offers. 

"That would be great," Eliot says, and glances at Teddy. "If we can get it arranged quickly enough..."

"Oh, there's no way in hell I'm missing you two getting married," Teddy assures them. 

"You missed it the first time," Eliot points out.

"Yeah, because I wasn't even _born_ yet," Teddy retorts. "But after all of this drama, I'm damn well going to watch my parents get married again before I leave them to their own devices."

Quentin shakes his head, but he's smiling. "We'd love to have you there, Teddy."

Eliot spares a soft smile for them both. "See what your friend can set up," he says to Kady. "Looks like we have a wedding to plan."

* * *

Kady's friend, a Hedge Witch named Layla Thromby, is able to work them in a week from the day Quentin and Eliot announced their intent to get remarried. It's not a lot of notice, but they're able to secure an appointment at the courthouse, and they still have time for... 

Well, for Eliot to go pick up his maid of honor, and to get divorced. 

Margo, Fen, and Josh are all waiting for Eliot when Penny drops him off. Penny takes one look at them, and announces that he's going to go find a fucking drink. Margo rolls her eyes at his theatrics while Fen laughs, and then Margo's moving forward to pull Eliot onto a hug. "Hi, baby," she murmurs as she holds him close. "You look good."

"So do you," Eliot says, and gives her a squeeze. "That crown looks so much better on you than it ever did on me."

"Red really is my color," Margo agrees, giving Eliot a smile before she backs away, lets Fen come over to take Eliot in a hug of her own. 

"We got your rabbits," she says, pulling back to beam at Eliot. "I'm so happy for you, Eliot."

"I hoped you would be," Eliot says, laughing. "I'm kind of going to need that divorce."

Margo snickers while Fen giggles. "Well, lucky for you, we just finalized the legal procedures. So we can definitely get you divorced before you go back to Earth."

"You're angels," Eliot declares, "both of you."

Fen beams at him, stepping back as Margo steps forward to take Eliot's arm in hers. "Of course we are," Margo says, haughty. "Come on, let’s go in. You two are not getting divorced in the front courtyard without any wine or food."

"Oh, please, yes, let there be both," Eliot says as they head towards the castle. "I'm starving, and wedding-planning is no easier the fourth time around."

* * *

The divorce goes well; after they all have a chance to eat, a lawyer comes in and goes down a list of questions about Eliot and Fen's relationship, any children borne of their relationship - there's an awkward, tense moment before Fen says there are no surviving children - as well as property. There's nothing that Eliot or Fen wants to fight over, and Eliot willingly gives over any and all royal property to Fen. It doesn't amount to much more than his wardrobe and some imported wine, but once that's done, they answer one last question, swearing that this is a divorce with no hope of reconciliation, and then... That's it. They're divorced. 

After the lawyer with his enormous stack of parchment leaves, Fen turns to Eliot with a grin. "Is it too odd to say that I'm happier on the day we divorced than on the day we wed?"

"I could probably take offense to that," Eliot says, laughing, "but I know what you mean. Now you're free to marry someone who isn't an incredibly sexy high king."

"Unless you're into that sort of thing," Margo drawls - and Fen _blushes._

"Oh, bug off," she mutters, pushing at Margo's shoulder. "Don't you have a wedding to attend?"

"You could come," Eliot offers, because unpacking all of that should probably wait until they've had another drink or two. "You'd be more than welcome."

"I would, but someone needs to stay here and run the country," Fen says, giving Eliot a smile. "You and Quentin will just need to come here on your honeymoon."

"We will," Eliot promises. "We want to come back here and spend some time with our family, but we'll stay for a few nights in the castle, too."

Fen beams. "Perfect," she says cheerfully. "Give Quentin my congratulations and well-wishes, too, would you? And I'll see you when you come back."

Eliot smiles. "Of course."

* * *

By the time Eliot brings Margo back, taking into account the still-wonky time difference between Fillory and Earth, there's only a couple more days until the wedding. It's a testament to how much he's grown as a person that Eliot doesn't immediately fly into panic mode, but Margo does complain on the short notice and insists on taking him out to find a nice suit immediately.

She also complains about the lack of bachelor party, but Quentin has never really been comfortable with big nights out, and all Eliot has to do is bring up the addiction he's still battling with to get her to drop the subject. They all go out for a meal the night before instead, and then Quentin and Eliot go their separate ways, Eliot to share a bed with Margo and Quentin to share with Julia.

The morning of the wedding dawns bright and sunny. Quentin is sure Eliot has been up for hours already, primping and preening in front of the mirror with Margo, but Quentin just showers and dries his hair and lets Julia fuss over him while he gets dressed. They leave for the park they're to get married in separately, Eliot first, which means he's already in place when they arrive. Julia squeezes Quentin's hand. "Go time," she murmurs. "Are you ready?"

The first time he did this, Quentin’s heart threatened to jump right out of his chest. His palms were sweaty, and he'd very nearly passed out. This time, however, he feels calm, and the eagerness to finally be _married_ to Eliot, to have that proof that they belong together, overwhelms any nerves he might have. "I'm ready," he says, giving Julia a smile, and squeezing her hand. 

Eliot turns to look at them as they walk across the grass, Teddy by his side. Julia lets go of Quentin's hand right before he draws up to Eliot, and Eliot reaches out to snag his hand for himself. "Hi," he whispers, his eyes shining, his smile soft and elated. "You look beautiful."

"You look okay," Quentin teases, grinning fit to burst. "Ready?"

"To live another fifty years with you?" Eliot asks. His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Bring it on."

* * *

The ceremony is short and simple; Quentin and Eliot meant it when they said they didn't need a fancy ceremony. Even still, Julia's and Teddy's eyes are wet when they finally say their vows, and Quentin thinks he spies a shine in Margo's when he pulls Eliot in for their first married kiss. 

After, they have a small party at the penthouse, a simple celebration where they share stories and good food and drink before retiring in the early morning hours. Quentin and Eliot haven't exactly been _chaste_ since their reunion, but the first night together as a married couple is... something else. Something _more,_ just like it was the first time. 

They take a couple of days to relax at the penthouse before Julia takes them, Teddy, and Margo back to Fillory. She volunteers in order to get some space from Kady and Penny; she'd told Quentin about how she gained her powers back, how she'd had to save both Kady and Penny, and now there is an awkward tension between the three of them that she, quite frankly, needs the break from. Quentin doesn't pry, just wishes her luck and lets the subject drop as they enter Whitespire. 

Fen and Josh insist on another celebratory dinner, and after a couple of days spent wandering the castle and grounds, spending time together and with their son, the Coldwater-Waughs finally face facts: It's time for Teddy to leave. 

They send word to their family at the mosaic, asking for them to gather as much of the family as they can. Eliot, Quentin, and Teddy take their time traveling to the mosaic, Julia tagging along as she'll be the one to dispel the magic holding Teddy's soul to the golem body he's currently inhabiting. When they finally reach the mosaic, their family has gathered, and a cheer goes up when Quentin and Eliot step out if the carriage hand-in-hand. "Congratulations!" someone from the back of the small crowd shouts, and another cheer goes up, along with some wolf-whistles and good-natured jeering. 

"Why did I want to see you all again?" Quentin asks, mock-scowling as he steps towards Abel, standing with Holly at the front of the crowd. "Gods, this is surreal, but - it’s good," he says, pulling his grandson into a hug that opens the floodgates. 

They get passed around from family member to family member, so many new faces and names that they can't keep track. Teddy fares only slightly better than his fathers, given that he lived to see the birth of at least some of them. Still, they hug everyone like they've known them for years, laughing and sharing soft words, even crying. It's like nothing either of them have ever imagined, and it's pretty much perfect.

There's yet another dinner - potluck style, this time, all of the extended Coldwater-Waughs bringing their own special dishes to add to the mix - and more good conversation. Quentin, Teddy, and Eliot stay close together, soaking up all of the family stories for their own reasons. Teddy plans to bring them back to their family that has already passed on, and Quentin and Eliot want to catch up on the family lore now that they're committed to spend more time with their family. 

There's a roaring bonfire going in the clearing, just off to the side of where the mosaic used to be, and Quentin sighs, happy and content, as he leans against Eliot, watching their family. "This brings back memories," he murmurs. 

"It's perfect," Eliot agrees, and loops one arm around Quentin's chest. "Our family is beautiful."

Quentin hums, pleased, as he settles more firmly against Eliot. They watch the younger ones run about as the sun dips below the horizon, talk with some of the adults whenever they wander by - but eventually, when it's full dark and Teddy has found a seat on Eliot's other side, Julia finds them. "I think it's time," she murmurs, glowing with something other than the light of the still-burning bonfire. 

Quentin feels Eliot tense, but he doesn't argue or ask for more time. He just squeezes Quentin back against him and turns to look at their son. "Are you ready?" he asks softly.

Teddy takes a deep breath, and nods. "As I'll ever be," he says, giving them a smile. He hesitates for a moment before asking, "Can we - can we do it by Mom's willow tree?"

"I think that's a beautiful idea," Eliot tells him. He pats Quentin's chest and pulls his arm back. "Come on, sweetheart."

Quentin gets to his feet, taking Eliot's hand in his. "It'll be nice to see her tree again," he says, a little wistful. 

So the four of them meander over to the tree where Arielle is buried. Behind them they can still hear talking and laughter, evidence of the happy family they've built together, but they don't look back. Beside her marker are two more, though those graves are empty; even if their bones are somehow still beneath this earth, Quentin buried Eliot beside the mosaic, and Teddy buried Quentin beside him. Still, it's weird to see their names carved into the stone, and bittersweet to see Arielle's.

"Hi Mom," Teddy whispers, reaching out to touch her headstone. "I miss you. I'll be home soon."

Quentin steps forward, rests one hand on Teddy's shoulder, his other reaching out to brush the stone next to Teddy's hand. "We miss you, too," he adds. "But hopefully it'll be a while yet before we see you again. Still got plenty of living to do in this life."

"She'll kick your asses if you ever forget that," Teddy warns him. He straightens up, and turns to face his fathers.

Eliot lets out a shaky breath. "Please don't say goodbye," he says, but Teddy shakes his head.

"I love you both so much," he says. "I'm so glad I got to be here, to help you both. You don't know what that means to me."

Quentin's lips quirk, even as his eyes sting. "I think we have some idea," he says, moving forward to pull Teddy in for a tight, almost crushing hug. 

Teddy hugs him back just as tight. "Don't you dare ever forget how much you love each other," he says. "I'm not going to be here to fix it next time."

"Nobody's going to have to fix it," Quentin promises, voice thick as he buries his face in the crook of his son's neck, committing every last detail to memory. 

Eliot waits until they're ready to release each other before stepping up for his own hug, just as fierce as Quentin's. "I love you," he says. "I'll take good care of him."

"I know you will, Papa," Teddy tells him. "Just don't forget to take care of yourself."

Eliot laughs wetly. "I'll try."

"I'll remind him," Quentin promises, one hand resting on the small of Eliot's back before he steps back, letting Teddy and Eliot have their moment. 

Julia's waiting for them when they finally pull apart, still glowing softly, her smile gentle and patient. Teddy sniffles, wipes at his face, and smiles back. "What now?" he asks.

Julia's smile grows, and she steps forward. "Is there anything you'd like to do with your body?" she asks gently. "I could return the clay to the earth, or do something else."

Teddy hesitates, looking around until his gaze lands on the willow tree overlooking his mother's grave. "Can you make me into a tree?" he asks.

Julia's smile softens, and Quentin blinks back tears. "Of course," she says. "I wouldn't be Our Lady of the Tree if I couldn't." She steps to the side, leading the way out from under the willow tree, to a clear space more than large enough for another sturdy tree near the bank of the creek. She turns back to Teddy, and seems to glow just a little bit brighter. "Are you ready?"

Teddy turns to smile at his fathers one last time. Eliot reaches for Quentin's hand. "Yes," he says, without taking his eyes off them. "I'm ready."

Julia steps forward, raising her hands, and the glow that surrounds her starts to surround Teddy. It's a deeper gold, and soon it engulfs him; the last thing Eliot and Quentin see is Teddy's smile as his eyes slide closed. The light pulses, growing, and after a moment, it recedes to reveal a sturdy oak tree, large enough to climb, with a trunk thick enough that Eliot and Quentin could attempt to wrap their arms around it without their fingers touching. Quentin lets out a soft breath, barely feeling the tears running down his cheeks. "Jules," he breathes. "It's beautiful."

Julia steps close, pulling Quentin in for a hug. "He was beautiful," she murmurs. "I'm glad I got to meet him, Q."

"So are we," Eliot says, blinking against the tears in his eyes. "We raised him on stories of you, and Margo and the others."

"Only the good ones, I hope," Julia says, teasing. 

"Well, we had fifty years to tell every story, and sometimes we needed some variety," Quentin answers, laughing, as he squeezes Julia tighter to him, his other arm wrapping around Eliot's waist. "Now we'll have more stories to tell in another fifty years."

Eliot smiles and kisses Quentin's temple. Another wave of laughter floats over to them over the distant crackling of the bonfire. "Do you want to go back over there?" he asks.

Quentin sighs. "In a minute," he murmurs, tilting his head so he can look at the stars through the branches of Teddy's tree. "It's nice out here."

Eliot hums, follows his gaze. "It's perfect," he whispers.

Quentin tips his head to rest against Eliot's arm, Julia's head on his shoulder as the three of them gaze at the skies above. "No," he sighs, lips curving in a soft smile. "It's beautiful."


End file.
